Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For the third night that week, Ladybug was watching Adrien’s window. She sat slumped back against a chimney, forcing her chest to rise and fall in slow, even breaths. Fighting the weight of numbness seeping closer and closer to her heart.

It wasn’t an unbearable heaviness—not anymore. What remained were the hollow remnants of pain her tears hadn’t quite washed away. Throat raw, eyes burning. She couldn’t quite name the feeling that lingered, but it was certainly one of wanting. No, of needing.

It attacked from every angle, as inescapable as fate. It kept her as small as she deserved to feel, on the precipice of crumbling. But she wasn’t allowed to fall apart. Not tonight.

This was all her fault.

Ladybug blinked up at the sky, knocking her head against the chimney. A sniffle slipped out, and she clenched her teeth, swallowing the sob that threatened to follow. Her fist beat against the roof as she struggled to control her breathing. In and out. In and—nope. This wasn’t working.

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes; darkness swirled beneath her lids. One more deep breath allowed her to sit up a little straighter. Little by little, she took hold of herself, remembering why she’d come. She needed to protect Adrien.

He’d climbed into bed over an hour ago, so he was likely asleep by now. And that meant he was probably safe from Akumas. He’d likely been safe before, too; there had been no trace of Akuma activity since Monarch’s defeat. But Ladybug couldn’t take that chance. If somehow the Butterfly Miraculous had fallen into the wrong hands, and its new holder decided it was time to act…

If Adrien was akumatized tonight, Ladybug just might let him win.

Fixing her eyes back on his window, she soon lost track of time. Exhaustion made its home in her limbs and pressed against her chest. She could barely keep her eyes open. A giant yawn seized her, and she was nearly ready to call it a night. Then she opened her eyes to see a shadow flying towards Adrien's window, one that seemed to flicker in the night, as if encompassed by a magical light. An Akuma.

Spurred awake by a sudden rush of adrenaline, she leaped to her feet, pulling out her yo-yo and launching it across the street. All her movements felt wrong. Discombobulated. She couldn't move fast enough. By the time she made it into the air, she'd lost track of the shadow, and her heart sank. No! No-no-no-no—oh.

She'd swung halfway across the street when the "shadow" flew back into view, only this time Ladybug could see it clearly. She could see how it only seemed to glow because of how it caught the street lights, and she watched it fly above Adrien's wall of windows to land on the mansion's roof, where it stretched its wings out widely before it began pecking at something.

Pecking. Like a bird.

Not an Akuma.

Unfortunately, by the time Ladybug processed that, she'd run out of time to react to the situation at hand. She tried to retract her yo-yo, hoping to snag a new target and change her trajectory in time, but the string was stuck.

Stuck?! It never got stuck! Not like this. It was meant to react to her will, which was very clearly in favour of a stealthy retreat.

She gave another hard tug on the string, but it was no use. Before she could do anything other than emit a panicked squeal, she crashed into Adrien's window, sliding down a few centimetres like a bug smushed against the glass.

Ha. Chat Noir would have liked that pun. Maybe if she made it out of this situation before dying of embarrassment, she'd have a chance to tell him about it.

It soon became clear, however, that her yo-yo still had no plans to facilitate a speedy getaway. Beholden to the whims of the string, she was soon pulled away from the window. She kicked her feet, trying to control the motion, but only succeeded in spinning around slowly, so her shoulder now faced the glass. Great.

Her only hope was that the crash hadn’t woken Adrien—and that she’d still be able to escape long before he noticed. So she forced herself to calm down, hanging limply until she gained some idea of how to better control the string. If she could find a foothold, maybe she could adjust her leverage. But all the windows were closed; there was barely a ledge to stand on. Not that her legs were even long enough to reach the bottom from her current position.

Huffing in frustration, she kept as still as she could until she spun back to face the window. Then she let go of the string with one hand, waving it like an idiot to try and swing closer, so she could grab the side of the nearest pane of glass. Her fingers were finally grazing the edge when she noticed movement from inside.

Adrien had climbed out of bed, and was now walking towards her.

Ladybug froze—inasmuch as she could when hanging in midair. Swinging lazily on her string, arm still outstretched, her eyes fixed on Adrien’s shadowy form. She couldn’t look away, no matter how much her hammering heart urged otherwise. But when his face caught the moonlight—when she could clearly see the way his gorgeous green eyes shone with sadness—she finally turned her head, squeezing her eyes shut to suppress another wave of tears.

That almost made things worse. With her eyes closed, it was way too easy to picture the way he’d looked earlier that day—his forehead pinched in confusion, lips trembling, and fingers reaching for hers as she pulled away. She could almost hear his voice, the way it shook. Marinette, please. I don’t understand.

Of course he didn’t understand. She’d broken up with him out of nowhere, without so much as providing a proper reason why—because what could she have told him? Sorry, Adrien. I can’t really tell you why I’m breaking up with you, because if I were brave enough to tell you, we wouldn’t be breaking up at all. And besides, I’m doing this so you’ll be happy! It’s what Monarch—I mean, your father—wanted. Isn’t that neat?

Yeah. That would have gone over well.

So many secrets had come between them. So many lies. Ladybug had spent so many nights camped across the street from his room, trying to work up the courage to tell him the truth, but something always held her back. She couldn't bring herself to tear his world apart, to rip the smile off his face. But she couldn't handle the other side of things either. She couldn't keep going on dates with him while he held her in the highest regard, like she could do no wrong.

And now she felt even worse. Hearing the window swing open, she could barely breathe.

“Ladybug?” He sounded steadier than he had in her memories, but not by much. “Why—what are you doing here?”

Not knowing if she could speak without bursting into tears, she gave her best attempt at a shrug—probably not a gesture that translated very well when she was hanging from a yo-yo string. She wasn’t even sure if she was facing him anymore. She still couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes.

“Are you, uh…is everything okay?” Adrien asked.

Ladybug forced a hum of agreement, but actual words were still beyond her ability. If she opened her mouth right now, she would definitely cry. Then Adrien—being the sweetheart he was—would ask what was wrong, and she’d probably take one look at him before blurting everything out. Which meant that Adrien would figure out her identity. And then he’d think she was a psycho for coming over here to watch him all night. Or worse—he’d figure out she hadn’t recovered the Butterfly Miraculous. He’d know she was a liar. He’d never trust another thing she said—and why should he?! Then an Akuma would pop up out of nowhere, and—

Adrien cleared his throat, distracting her from her spiral. “Um…if you need to talk about anything, or…I don’t know. If I can help you in any other way…”

A pang slashed through her heart. The last thing she deserved was Adrien’s sympathy. And the fact that he’d even notice something wrong with her? That he’d offer support when he was hurting so much? It made her love him even more.

But she couldn’t unburden herself on him. Even if she found a way to keep things vague, it wouldn’t be fair. So she swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly forced her eyes open, sucking in a sharp breath when she realized they were face to face.

“Fime, I—I’m fine! I’m just, uh…hanging out!” She nodded to the string. “Get it? Hanging?”

Adrien’s smile came a few seconds too late—like his mind was stuck elsewhere. His response was just as mechanical. “Funny.”

“Yep, that’s me! Ladybug: your everyday clown!”

She’d hoped that might earn her a laugh—if only one borne out of pity. But if anything, Adrien only seemed more alarmed. Of course he does, she thought bitterly. Adrien hates clowns!

“Right.” He blinked furiously a few times, then dropped his gaze. Which of course made her want to cry again.

She had to get out of here. “L-look. I’m sorry I disturbed you. I really didn’t mean to wake you up, I just…” She gestured vaguely to the roof. “There was this bird, and for a second I thought…well, never mind! I’m going to leave you alone now—as soon as I get unstuck, I promise.”

She tugged violently on her yo-yo, and the string finally gave way. Sort of. She yelped as she slid down—maybe a metre—before it got caught again. At least her feet were finally level with the base of the window.

“I’m fine!” she told Adrien. Another lie. She started swinging her body again, reaching desperately for the window. Her fingers brushed the frame, and she scrambled frantically for a hold. “A-ha! It shouldn’t be long now…”

In retrospect, planting her feet on the inside edge of Adrien’s window and pulling like her life—since her dignity was already a lost cause—depended on it might not have been the best idea. On the one hand, the yo-yo did come free after several particularly fierce tugs. On the other hand, Ladybug wasn’t ready for a sudden shift in the forces holding her in place. She didn’t have anything to steady herself on—well, nothing except for Adrien’s shoulder. But by the time she made contact, she was already falling. She only succeeded in taking him down with her.

He landed on the floor with a grunt, arms wrapping around her as she fell back against his chest. And, in an instant, the rest of the world fell away. She forgot about everything that had led to this moment. All she knew was the feeling of her heart racing and his warm breath puffing against her cheek and the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. She never wanted to leave.

Adrien shifted, and the fantasy cracked. All of a sudden she was too close. Too comfortable. She tried to roll out of his arms, but met resistance. Her breath caught in her throat as his hold tightened briefly around her, then all of a sudden he let go, sliding out from under her. She rolled off of him, onto her side, and their eyes met. His were wide with alarm, and she reached out instinctively to soothe him, sliding a hand across his chest until she remembered she had no business doing that—not as Ladybug. Not at all, anymore.

She yanked her hand away, leaving him gaping at her. Then they both started speaking at once.

“Ohmygosh, I shouldn’t have—”

“I’m sorry. I—“

“No, I’m sorry.”

“—I shouldn’t have—with my arms around you—it was just a habit, you know?”

“Did I hurt you?” Ladybug checked him over, patting his head until he dodged away, sitting up.

“I mean, a reflex!” Adrien dragged his fingers through his hair. “Definitely not a habit.”

“I’m so so sorry, I should have been more careful—”

“Because I definitely don’t usually catch superheroes! Just that one time.”

“—because I swear I don’t normally fall on civilians, and—”

“Or something like twenty-five thousand times, I guess. But it’s not like I caught you every time, so—”

“What?” Ladybug finally realized they’d been having two different conversations, but it took her a few seconds longer to actually process what he’d said. “Oh! You mean, when you were…”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “When I had the Snake Miraculous. Yeah…”

“Oh.”

All at once, the nervous tension they’d been hurling back and forth seemed to evaporate—though it didn’t do much to lighten the mood. Adrien was still staring at her, chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. His eyes were as red as hers must have been, and when she glanced down, his hands were shaking.

Some part of her mind was still screaming at her to leave, but it was overridden by a sixth sense of sorts—by the overwhelming knowledge that Adrien wasn’t okay.

“Are you all right?” she whispered.

Adrien ducked his head, rubbing his hands against flannel pyjama pants—a pair she’d made for him, with fabric he’d chosen. Apparently it matched the colour of her eyes. “I’m fine,” he croaked. “You didn’t hurt me.”

But she had hurt him—maybe not in the fall, but with everything else. A single tear slipped down his cheek, one he tried to hide from her as he turned away, wringing his hands.

Ladybug pressed her trembling lips into a thin line, inhaling slowly. “But you’re crying.”

“Not because of you. I just…it’s been a long day. My girlfriend—or not my girlfriend anymore, I guess—she…” His lips quirked up in a sad smile. “Well, never mind. I’m sure you have places to be, and I don’t expect you to care about—”

“But I do care! Of course I care.”

Adrien’s eyes snapped back to hers. His mouth dropped open, jaw working like he wanted to say something, then snapped shut just as quickly. His face crumpled, and the tears he’d been trying to hold back came flooding out.

He buried his face in his hands, and without thinking twice, Ladybug moved to comfort him, setting a hand on his back. The contact sent shockwaves up her arm; he tensed beneath her touch. Maybe he didn’t want her comfort. After all, she was practically a stranger to him.

But before she could pull away, he leaned into her, head finding her chest. Her throat tightened. How could Adrien trust her so easily? How could she sit here beside him like she didn’t know she was the one making him cry?

Then again, how could she abandon him right now?

She snuck her arm around his shoulders, hesitantly pulling him closer. He yielded easily, hugging her tightly around the waist. Sobs continued to wrack his body. The sound of each one dislodged her heart—like a lever whacking a pinball back into play.

When he finally managed to speak, each word stabbed into her chest. “She said she…she didn’t want to…she couldn’t…” Another sob slipped out. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.” Ladybug hugged him tighter, resting her chin on his head and fixing her watery eyes on the ceiling. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, sniffling loudly, then fell silent for a while. When he spoke again, his words were still drenched in pain, but at least they were more coherent. “She said I’d be better off without her. But that—she must have misspoke. It makes no sense. She’s…I just love her so much, and” —his voice broke— “I thought she loved me too.”

The urge to break down alongside him was so strong it nearly tore her apart. She tried to think of something to say—some way she could reassure him she did love him without giving herself away. But there was nothing.

“She’s an idiot,” she finally managed.

“No,” Adrien said, without a hint of hesitation. He pulled away, sitting up and wiping at his eyes. “She’s amazing. I just wish I knew what I did wrong. Maybe…maybe if I had a chance to fix it…”

God. She couldn’t handle Adrien thinking it was his fault. “Maybe it wasn’t anything you did. Maybe it just…had to be that way.”

“No.” He drew his knees to his chest, staring at the floor as he spoke. “I must have screwed up somehow. I must have missed something.”

“You don’t know that.”

Adrien shrugged. “She won’t even talk to me. She’s not answering my messages, and Al—her best friend just keeps telling me to ask her, but…I don’t know how. She even left the group chat. It’s like…like she wants nothing to do with me anymore.”

“No. That’s not…that can’t be true.” It wasn’t true. She wanted everything to do with him.

It was herself she hated right now.

Adrien just shook his head again, sniffling. Ladybug fumbled for something else to say, but she was nearing her breaking point. Her emotions were coiled so tightly inside her, it was a miracle she didn’t spontaneously combust.

Eventually, Adrien broke the silence. “You can go. I’ll be okay.”

The look on his face didn’t make it seem like he’d be okay, but Ladybug knew she couldn’t stay much longer before he realized she was as much of a mess as he was. “Are you sure?”

Another sad smile crossed his face. He seemed to deliberate his next words carefully. “Marinette…she always noticed things. Well, there’s lots she didn’t notice, too—I mean, she could barely remember to change out of her pyjamas before leaving the house, so maybe it seems weird to think of her noticing…um. Sorry. I’m not making sense.”

He took a deep breath, rubbing his face with both hands. “She always noticed things about me. Things other people didn’t—like how I hated modelling, or when I was upset…she could just tell. And it took me way too long to realize how much she picked up on, but once I did…everything just made sense. Like, how I always felt safe with her. How I could always be myself with her. And now…”

Ladybug hung on to his words as he trailed off uncertainly, desperate to know how his story would end. What he really thought about her, now that she’d broken his heart. But it soon became clear he didn’t intend on sharing the rest—or maybe he didn’t know how to. There was a faraway look in his eyes, one she knew would haunt her for weeks, or even months.

Shifting closer, she set a careful hand on his arm. “Now?” she prompted, voice trembling.

“Now…I guess I’ll be fine,” he said slowly. “Eventually. Probably. But even if I’m not, well…who’ll be around to notice?”

I will, Ladybug answered in her head. But what did it matter? She couldn’t be close to him anymore. If he even wanted to be her friend once things settled down, wouldn’t it be too hard?

It wasn’t like she could keep visiting as Ladybug, either. She couldn’t let him think he meant anything more to her than any other civilian.

She was useless. No matter what she noticed, no matter how much Adrien needed her, she wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing.

“I’m sorry.” She stood abruptly, and was already climbing onto the window before realizing she ought to say goodbye. But her whole body was shaking, and tears were streaming down her cheeks again. She couldn’t turn back. “I shouldn’t have…I have to go.”

She fled before she could hear his response.

Chapter Text

"Marinette," Tikki said, "This isn't a good idea."

Suppressing a sigh, Marinette rose from her desk chair, keeping her eyes fixed on the time in the corner of her computer screen as she took one last bite of her sandwich. She hadn't even finished half of it. She was too keyed up to eat.

According to the clock, Adrien should have started lunch six minutes ago—Nathalie was nothing if not punctual—and the rooftop route to his house would take her just shy of three minutes. Which meant now was the ideal time to leave. If she waited much longer, she risked him coming back upstairs before she had a chance to hide.

She swallowed her half-chewed bite of sandwich and forced a smile for Tikki. “It’ll be fine. Adrien’s never noticed me watching him before.”

“What about the other night?”

The clock switched to the next minute. Marinette didn’t have time for this. “What about it? He wouldn’t have noticed me then, either. I made a mistake. I won’t do it again.” It would be much harder to mistake a bird for an Akuma in broad daylight.

“But Marinette, using your powers for—”

“Tikki, Spots On!”

Ladybug was swinging through the streets before the clock could change again.

When Adrien trudged back into his room, Ladybug was well-settled in her usual stakeout spot, completely hidden from view save for the camera on her yo-yo, which stuck out just far enough that she could use it to keep tabs on Adrien’s movements. It wasn’t the most comfortable position—the corner of the chimney bit into her back, and the roof was too hard—but she could handle it for a few hours.

It was frustrating though, trying to watch him like this. One might expect perfect resolution from a magical camera, but of course it wasn’t that simple. Whenever she tried to zoom in on Adrien’s face, the shadows in his room worked against her. She couldn’t tell a smile from a frown.

She was stuck studying body language, or trying to piece together his mood by how he passed the time. Yesterday, for example, had mostly been a good day. Nino had visited, and Adrien had been the most animated she’d seen over the three days since the break-up—they’d shot some hoops then spent a while on the computer. Judging by the way their bodies hunched forwards, she was pretty sure they’d been laughing. But once Nino had left, it wasn’t long before Adrien became a lump on the couch, lying huddled under a blanket until Ladybug had to leave for dinner.

Today, Adrien took a seat at his desk again, but the computer remained off. She couldn’t tell what he was doing, but at least he seemed occupied. That had to be a good thing.

Maybe it meant he was starting to get over her.

The very idea of that sparked an ache inside her chest, one that sank deeper and deeper the more she tried to push it aside. But she was fine. Clearly this was just a weird manifestation of a very mild surprise—that was all! Bodies were weird; they lied and overreacted. She wasn’t actually upset.

Because that would make her a terrible hypocrite. A terrible person.

She wanted Adrien to be happy.

Still, some part of her—a part larger and louder than she was proud of—felt relief when Adrien eventually slid down in his seat and spun slowly away from his desk. He surveyed his room listlessly, in a way that made her hopeful that he hadn’t forgotten her yet. Maybe he’d even take her back if she could come up with some excuse for her recent behaviour. (If she lied to him again.)

But she was also lying to herself, pretending she was here for Adrien. Maybe that had been true the first night. Maybe it had been true all the times she’d come before the breakup, back when she’d still intended to tell him the truth. But today she was pretty sure she’d come to assuage her own guilt. Or perhaps to wallow in it.

Tikki was right. This had been a mistake.

Ladybug was halfway to her feet—already anticipating the tears she’d cry once she was home, curled up in a twisted heap of blankets—when she heard someone call her name. Someone who…well, they sounded a lot like someone she knew.

But it couldn’t be him, even if he was the only person it could logically be. She’d just decided to do the right thing! Why was fate tempting her this way? Surely the universe didn’t hate her that much. (Even if the universe in question was tailor-made by Gabriel Agreste.)

“Ladybug!”

Okay, that was definitely Adrien. But there was no way he could see her! Surely he’d just lost his mind—his loneliness had driven him to madness, and now he was trying to make friends with the pigeons wobbling across the roof beside her. Yeah. Which only meant she was even more justified in being here, watching him—she had to keep him safe from the allergies he’d apparently forgotten about.

She could practically see Tikki roll her eyes at that excuse.

Ever so slowly, so as not to draw more attention to herself, Ladybug poked her yo-yo back out from behind the chimney, eyes fixed on the screen as Adrien’s room came back into view. Crap. There he was, standing at the window. Waving at her.

Ladybug weighed her options. She could probably still make a run for it. Or she could remain hidden and wait for Adrien to give up on calling her over—likely the safest option. But now that he stood in the sunlight, she could properly zoom in on his face. She could see that hopeful look in his eyes, and the way it began to dim as the seconds stretched by. And then she was moving without thinking, heart throbbing in her chest as she landed on his open window.

“H-hey,” she said, clutching the window frame tightly. The least she could do was avoid falling on him again. “You called?”

Adrien smiled shyly. “Yeah, I…well, I’ve noticed you watching me these past days, and I—”

“How? I had Tik—my Kwami make sure I’d be hidden from that spot!” She realized too late she’d basically admitted to spying on him, but Adrien seemed unphased.

“Oh. Well, your yo-yo screen kind of catches the sun when it moves. And…” His lips twitched. “I’m sure you have a great many talents, but sitting still doesn’t seem to be one of them.”

She groaned. “But you didn’t say anything before.”

“Ah.” He ducked his head. “I guess…I was kind of embarrassed? I mean, it’s obvious you’re checking up on me after the other night, and that’s…it’s really sweet of you. But now I’m just wasting your time.”

“No you’re—”

“I didn’t mean to make you think I was some problem you needed to keep an eye on.”

Ladybug’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“Um. I said—”

“No, no, no. I heard you. Just…what?” The hell? “Why would you assume you’re a problem?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t mean… It’s just that I’m fine, really. Or, not exactly fine. But I’m not exactly a Ladybug-level issue, so you don’t need to bother checking in anymore.”

It wasn’t lost on her that Adrien was giving her an out—one that any sane person in her position would likely take. Instead, she jumped down from the window, crossing her arms and staring up at his startled face. “And what if I want to?”

“If you—huh?”

“What if I want to bother?”

His brow furrowed. “Uh…”

“What if I want to spend my time making sure you’re okay?” Her voice shook. “What if I think you’re worth it?”

Adrien’s eyes went wide; Ladybug was close enough to see herself reflected in his pupils. She knew she’d crossed a line. It made no sense for Ladybug to stand here saying these things. But when the alternative was letting Adrien believe he meant so little?

“You barely know me,” he whispered.

She bit her lip, hating that she couldn’t refute that—that she had to let him believe yet another lie. Heedless of any consequences, she felt her hand reaching for his. “So? You are worth it.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, and her stomach twisted as she awaited his response. She was letting Adrien believe she’d come here for him, even though she’d convinced herself of the exact opposite mere minutes ago. But maybe her motive didn’t really matter if she managed to help him now.

As the time slipped by, she tried to soothe him with a smile. His eyes grew wider for a moment, then his head turned sharply to the side. He sniffled, and a tear ran down his cheek.

Her heart clenched. “I said something wrong, didn’t I? I made you cry, and now you must hate me, and—”

A watery laugh cut her off. “No, no. It’s not really you—not entirely, at least. I cried at a banana earlier. Because…” He shrugged, wiping his eyes with one hand. “But these are good tears. I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I think I just really needed to hear that.”

A wave of guilt engulfed her, so strong that the force nearly bowled her over. Had she made him doubt that? Did he really not think he was worth people’s love and attention?

She wanted to say something—to reassure him further—but all she could manage was a weak smile as she squeezed his hand.

Oh no.

His hand. Which she was still holding. Because she’d just invited herself into his room and grabbed it!

Shit! Why did I do that, why did I do that, why did I—why am I STILL HOLDING IT?!

She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but certainly too long. Adrien was being so nice about it—about everything—but he must have found it weird.

Meaning to resolve things, she took a hasty step back. But in doing so, she still hadn’t managed to actually let go. She stared in horror at their clasped hands, then did the only thing she could think of to salvage the situation. She shook his hand frantically up and down, slowing her pace when he winced. When she figured humiliated herself enough, she dropped his hand like a hot potato.

“There! Now we’ve been properly introduced!”

“Uh…”

“I mean, sure, we’ve met before. But how well can you really know a person, eh?” She flourished her words with a pair of finger guns. “And, you know, you said you were wasting my time—which you weren’t—but now you’re super-duper not! Because we shook hands, so…so this basically a business meeting. I’m here on very official business now. Yep!”

Adrien blinked at her. Then he blinked again. Previously, she hadn’t known an awkward silence could stretch out so long. Maybe she’d broken time itself with her level of cringe.

She laughed nervously. “Speaking words is, uh…not one of my many talents, either. Heh.”

A slow smile spread across Adrien’s face. “I think you do okay.”

“Th-thanks?” Ladybug stared into his twinkling eyes for a moment, then gave herself a little shake. She should probably leave now. Before she accidentally kissed him or something. “Well, I’m sorry I bugged you. Won’t do it again—the whole watching you thing.” Or, she’d at least borrow Alya’s Miraculous for next time. “I can see you’re totally fine, so…I’ll just be going!”

Naturally, she failed to actually move after that. So she had a full-on view when Adrien’s face fell.

“Oh,” he said. “Okay. Or…if you want, you’re welcome to stay.”

The responsible voice in the back of Ladybug’s mind—the one that sounded suspiciously like Tikki—was definitely shouting something. But it was easily drowned out by her racing heartbeat. She did want to.

Even acting like the most awkward person in the world, this was the first time in days she’d felt right. And she’d always planned on eventually being Adrien’s friend again—when he was ready. This would just jump-start the process a bit.

“Do you want me to stay?” she asked timidly.

He nodded, eyes falling to the floor. “I don’t think I want to be alone anymore.”

Ouch. How was her heart supposed to handle that? (How was her heart supposed to handle telling him no?)

She watched him, noticing the way his hand slipped into his pocket and froze. When he withdrew, he’d curled his fingers into an empty fist. It was the pocket where he normally kept the lucky charm she’d given him. Was it no longer there, or did it just not bring him comfort anymore? She wasn’t sure which idea bothered her more.

If she stayed, there would only be more impossible questions. She’d have to face all the ways she’d hurt him, but she’d also have to see him smile. To hear him laugh.

She’d have to see him start to move on.

But she missed him. It had only been three days, but it might as well have been three years. And if she left now, she wouldn’t be able to come back—not now that Adrien already knew about her hiding spot. How was she meant to spend the rest of break—nearly two weeks!—without another conversation?

Mostly though, her decision was made by the way he glanced at her from beneath his lashes. The way a wobbly smile pushed against his cheeks—like he was afraid to hope for more.

Ladybug didn’t really want to be alone anymore either.

“Okay.” She looked away before his smile could steal her breath. “I’ll stay.”

Chapter Text

In a completely expected—but totally unfair—turn of events, the awkwardness in Adrien’s room didn’t magically dissipate once Ladybug decided to stay. It crept in further and made itself at home, taking over when Adrien’s initial excitement faded; his smile rippled at the edges, like a mirage.

This wasn’t the smile she knew and loved. It wasn’t the goofy grin from the time she’d left him alone with her phone and he’d filled her album with selfies. It wasn’t the quiet quirk of his lips after hours spent lying in each other’s arms, back when she’d let herself believe their love could be infinite. It wasn’t the smile she’d fought so hard to protect.

All she could see in this smile was the pain hiding behind it.

Fighting the urge to drop her transformation and confess to everything right then and there, she tore her eyes away. “So…what would you like to do?”

“Well, whatever you want, really. You’re my guest.”

Ladybug sent a brief, tight smile his way. How was she meant to know what she wanted? His room was huge and overwhelming, and that wasn’t a mere side effect of their current circumstances; she’d never actually spent much time here. With his newfound freedom, Adrien had always preferred visiting the bakery or exploring the city. And she hadn’t exactly been thrilled by the prospect of visiting the mansion, either. Especially once it became the place where she’d failed to save Adrien’s father.

She could feel Adrien’s eyes on her, waiting patiently for a decision. But the longer she kept silent, the harder it felt like it would be to speak.

Whatever you want, Adrien had said. Except that wasn’t true.

What she wanted was to walk up and wind her arms around his neck. To pull his lips down to hers and curl her fingers in his hair. She wanted to see the look in his eyes after they finally drew apart—the one that made her feel like nothing in the world could come between them.

She wanted what she couldn’t want.

Adrien’s voice made her jump. “How about video games?”

“W-what?”

“Do you like those?”

Ladybug squeezed her eyes shut, trying to chase away all the images of other things she liked. “Yeah.” Stop thinking about kissing him! “Ultimate Mecha Strike is my favourite.”

“Me too! Want me to set it up?”

Images flashed through her mind of all the times they’d played before—more smiles and more laughter that no longer belonged to her. Playing now would probably hurt too much. And what if he recognized her playing style? Some of her combos were pretty distinctive.

“The thing is…” Think of something, think of something, think of— “I, uh, don’t really play with other people, because…” Some. Thing. Anything! “I…I have rage issues!”

As her words echoed around the room, Adrien regarded her the way he sometimes used to look at Marinette-her before he’d fallen in love—like she was an alien life form who couldn’t speak French.

“O-only when I play video games,” she clarified. “It’s a super specific affliction.” Just like her super specific affliction of acting like a dumbass in front of Adrien Agreste.

“Oooh-kaaaay.”

Shame heated her cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay! Hmm…what about board games?”

Well, she didn’t have any memories of kissing Adrien senseless after a fierce match of Monopoly. “Those should be safe.”

“Cool. Let’s pick one out.”

Adrien led the way to his desk and bent down to open the cupboard beneath one of his shelves of trophies. As Ladybug hovered a few paces behind, something on the desk caught her eye.

She glanced over, quickly realizing it must have been what he’d been working on when he first returned to his room. There was a hot glue gun beside the finished project, and glitter scattered all over the desk. In the middle of the mess was a picture frame, sparkly pink with seashells glued to the edges. But what caught her breath was the picture inside.

During their last week of summer vacation, Adrien and Marinette had spent an afternoon at one of those tiny beaches along the Seine. A perfect afternoon, the kind that even a mountain of secrets couldn’t find a way to destroy.

The sun was beating down on them, so hot that the air was thick with its presence. Adrien shone just as brightly, face animated as he described all the classes he wanted to try in lycée. How he still didn’t know what to do with his life, but it didn’t scare him the same way it used to. And despite the heat, they were always touching—her knee bouncing against his leg or his hand holding hers or the tickle of his fingers in her hair.

Tucking a lock behind her ear, Adrien sighed. “I can’t find any seashells.”

Marinette giggled. “It’s not a real beach.”

“I know that! I just…forgot.” He leaned his head against hers, his breath mingling with the sunshine caressing her cheek. “I wanted to pick one out for you.”

Today was much colder; late October air whirled through Adrien’s open window. Ladybug trailed a finger along the edge of the frame, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. The shells glued on were probably ordered online instead of hand-picked, but she still felt like he’d chosen them just for her.

“Oh,” Adrien said, his voice closer than expected.

Ladybug jumped back from the desk. Her finger still tingled where she’d been running it along the frame. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay.” He set a stack of games on the corner of the desk, eyes fixed on the picture. “I, uh…I meant to make this for Marinette ages ago. But it took me a while to find the shells I wanted, and then the order was delayed and…the package finally arrived this morning.”

“And you made it anyways? Even though…”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” He took the frame in both hands and took a seat on the edge of his desk. “This whole thing…it just feels like a bad dream. I keep hoping I’ll wake up one day and everything will be back to normal. So…yeah. I still wanted to make it. In case…well, just in case.” He hugged the frame to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut. “Stupid, right?”

“No.” Ladybug struggled to keep her voice from shaking. “I think it’s really sweet.”

Adrien smiled sadly, staring down at the frame. Then he stood abruptly and set it back on the desk, face down. He cleared his throat. “So, um…these are the games I have.”

“Right! Games!” Heart racing, Ladybug glanced at the stack. She hadn’t processed before how tall it was—there were almost enough boxes for the stack to be level with Adrien’s head.

“I don’t necessarily know what’s good,” he said, gesturing to the boxes. About half were still wrapped in plastic. “I haven’t played most of them. My father bought me a bunch after my mom died—or, I guess Nathalie bought them—but then…I guess it didn’t occur to either of them that I didn’t really have anyone to play with, so…”

Ignoring the way her stomach twisted, Ladybug forced a supportive smile. “Well, now you do have someone. Are there any you like?”

He ran a finger down the side of the tower, pulling out a box from near the top. “I used to really like this one. The Game Of Life.”

“Yeah, that one’s fun.” She didn’t own it, but she’d played a couple times at Alya’s. She was about to say they should play when something on the cover caught her eye—an image of one of the plastic cars with the little plastic people sitting inside.

When she’d played before, she always imagined Adrien was the little plastic person sitting beside her. And behind them were all the kids they’d have one day. It was their future she’d imagined—the future she’d now taken away.

She ripped the box from his hand and set it aside. “But maybe we should give some love to one of the games you haven’t tried, don’t you think?”

She grabbed the first plastic-wrapped box she laid eyes on—one near the bottom. She’d only pulled it halfway out before the tower swayed ominously, and only Adrien’s quick reflexes kept the whole thing from tumbling to the ground.

“Here, let me.” He moved the top of the pile back into the cupboard and handed her the game she’d chosen. It turned out to be Battleship. “Do you know how to play?”

She nodded. “It’s pretty easy. I’ll show you?”

They settled down on opposite sides of the table, not saying much as they began setting up the game. Ladybug couldn’t say what Adrien was thinking about, but her own thoughts flew faster than a hurricane—and felt nearly as destructive. Seashells. Fake smiles. Adrien laughing. Adrien crying. Little plastic people without a home.

Tiny clicks filled the air as ships and pegs were separated from their plastic runners. Ladybug finished her half first, then watched as Adrien carefully stuck the logo on the back of his case, face scrunched with far more concentration than should be required to apply a sticker. It ended up a little crooked, but he seemed pleased with the result. She watched his smile until the pressure building inside her felt ready to burst, then she busied herself by arranging her ships in the ocean grid.

“Are there rules about where I should put them?” Adrien asked.

“Uh…they can’t be diagonal.” She was about to place her last ship when she remembered a story Alya had relayed about Etta trying to cheat. “Oh, and you can’t stack them on top of each other.” She clicked her last boat into place, then studied her board carefully.

“Okay, but…are there any tricks for where to put them?”

Ladybug glanced over, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “If there were, do you think I’d tell you?”

The corners of his lips twitched. “Don’t I deserve a fighting chance since this is my first time playing?”

She considered pointing out that this was more of a guessing game than anything requiring skill, but he suddenly seemed way too smug. It was another look she wasn’t used to seeing on his face, but…she still found it oddly familiar. Soothing, even. “No,” she said instead. “I don’t think so.”

He chuckled, and an unexpected wave of warmth passed through her. Maybe hanging out with him this way wouldn’t be so hard after all.

The feeling didn’t last long.

“Should we start?” Adrien asked.

Ladybug blinked, realizing she’d been staring for too long. She nodded furiously, insides squirming as a grin spread across his face. “You go first,” she said.

They traded guesses back and forth, neither landing any hits for the first few rounds. As the number of white pins grew, so did the tension inside her. It became more and more evident one of them would land a hit soon. Not that it should matter—it was just a silly game.

But lately she’d grown so used to waiting for her luck to run out.

“B6,” Adrien guessed.

Her stomach sank. “Hit.”

Adrien pumped his fist before placing his red pin, and she tried to be happy for him. She tried to get caught up in his excitement. But all she could think about was the coming doom—how close she was to sinking.

She’d told Adrien not to stack his ships on top of one another, but wasn’t that exactly what she’d done with her secrets? The moment one was tugged out, the rest were sure to tumble. And unlike earlier, with the stack of board games, she wouldn’t have Adrien to steady the tower before it crashed to the ground.

He’d be too busy trying to keep his life from crumbling. And maybe he’d be too mad to help her anyways.

“Your turn,” Adrien said.

Mind blank with panic, she could barely even remember how the grid system worked. But she was saved from having to answer by a knock at the door.

She was saved by a new problem entirely.

“Adrien?” Nathalie called.

Nathalie.

After Gabriel made the wish, Ladybug had still been standing where his body had disappeared—wondering what the hell to do next—when the elevator opened at the far end of the catwalk. She hadn’t fully registered the sound before Nathalie’s voice crossed the gap. “What happened?”

Ladybug hadn’t known how much to say—Gabriel had said nothing of what she should tell Nathalie. But the weight of being the only person alive who knew what had transpired was too much to bear. Once she started talking, she found she couldn’t stop.

“He asked me not to tell Adrien,” she concluded. “He wanted me to lie.”

Nathalie didn’t miss a beat. “Will you?”

To this day, of all the people who knew the truth, she was the only one who had asked. Alya continually pushed Marinette to be honest. Kagami had more or less demanded it. Félix just walked around side-eyeing her—as if he hadn’t had ample opportunity to tell Adrien himself. But Nathalie had given her a weary look, seeming resigned to deal with whatever option she chose.

Did she still feel that way today? If Ladybug told the truth, it would certainly impact Nathalie’s relationship with Adrien as well. She probably didn’t want him to know she’d been in on Monarch’s plan.

All those thoughts raced through Ladybug’s mind as Adrien’s eyes went wide. Before she’d made a conscious decision to move, she was halfway to her feet. But when Adrien shook his head and smiled, motioning for her to sit back down, she was too alarmed to argue.

“Come in!”

The door creaked open. Footsteps rounded the corner. “I was just wondering if you wanted to—oh.” Nathalie stopped short, glancing back and forth between Adrien and Ladybug. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

“Yeah, Ladybug just dropped by. Is that okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, eyes shifting to Ladybug, who braced herself for a rejection. But Nathalie smiled. “Of course. I’ll come back later.”

“Thanks, Nathalie!”

With another brief smile, she turned and left the room.

“Sorry about that,” Adrien said once the door closed behind her.

Ladybug finally remembered how to breathe. “It’s okay.”

Adrien studied her for a long moment, but didn’t ask questions. “It’s still your turn.”

“Right.” Ladybug stared at her grid until the pegs stopped blurring in front of her. “A7.”

“Nope. You missed.”

They kept playing. Adrien’s next two guesses circled the pin he’d guessed right, but he hadn’t yet found the right spot. Ladybug finally landed her first hit.

Then she surprised herself by asking a question. “How’s it going with Nathalie?”

Adrien’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you and I haven’t really had a chance to talk. Not since…” She swallowed, remembering the talk they’d had the night he returned from London. How it had been so easy to lie that night, how the excuse had been right there. He just lost his father. That’s enough heartbreak for one day.

“Oh,” Adrien said softly, a distant look in his eyes. “I guess we haven’t.”

“Y-yeah.” Not that you know about. “So I guess…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I-I mean, not now. Not after, um…you know. But like, in general.” Were you happy before I broke your heart?

“Ah. Well, I’m… It’s complicated. But things with Nathalie have been surprisingly good, actually. B7.”

“Be wha—oh. Hit.” Ladybug bit her lip. “Why is it surprising?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… Well, my father and I weren’t that close in the end.” He ducked his head. “I mean, I know he was a hero and all, but…”

“It’s fine to feel however you feel,” she whispered. She knew that, because she’d read hundreds of articles on grief over the last few months, trying to help Adrien. But she still never felt like she knew what to say.

“Thanks.” He smiled tightly. “But yeah, I guess I’m just not used to it anymore. To having a parent who…actually acts like one. Like, I even caught her reading some parenting book the other day. And she tried to hide it, so she must have been embarrassed—which I get. She’s Nathalie. She’s usually so on top of everything. The last thing she wants is to look incompetent.”

Marinette nodded like she wasn’t three sentences behind in processing his words. He barely gave her a chance to catch up before he continued.

“But I don’t think she has anything to hide. And it’s sort of nice to know that she’s still figuring things out the way I am. I just appreciate that she’s here, you know? That she’s trying.” His expression darkened. “It’s more than my father bothered to do after my mom died.”

Ladybug’s stomach twisted. “I’m sorry.”

“N-no, it’s okay.” Adrien wiped his palms on his jeans and released a long breath. “It’s your turn again.”

“Oh. Uh…E6,” she guessed at random. Only after she’d spoken did she realize she ought to have guessed something near her single red peg.

“Miss.”

Defeat sank like lead in the pit of her stomach as she fumbled for another white pin. Why couldn’t she get anything right?

Adrien released a thoughtful hum. “B8.”

Staring at the cruiser on her ocean grid—with two red pins already stuck inside—Ladybug felt the loss wrap tightly around her.

“Sunk,” she whispered, unsure if she wanted to be here anymore.

But by the time he sank his second ship, Adrien’s victorious smile was spilling over into laughter. And maybe that laughter didn’t belong to her quite the way it used to, but she’d still made it happen.

So maybe she’d gotten something right.

Ladybug glared at the board, refusing to place the pin that would sink her final ship. But when Adrien started snickering, she knew he’d already realized he was the winner. Again.

“You’re cheating!” she said—not that she believed it. Her outcry made him laugh harder. “Or you lied about this being your first time playing. You must know some sort of secret trick!”

“I thought it was a game of luck?” he teased. “Or in your case, unluck.”

“Eight freaking times.” She shook her head. “That’s statistically impossible.”

“Improbable.”

She stuck out her tongue, finally looking up from the board long enough to meet his eyes. “Your face is improbable.”

The feeling that passed through her seeing him laugh like that…she’d lose a hundred more times to make it happen again.

And maybe she could see it again. Maybe she could keep coming back and making him laugh. If she was only his friend, not his girlfriend, maybe she didn’t have to feel pressured to tell him the truth.

After all, nobody else had done it. Why should everything fall on her shoulders?

Adrien’s laughter faded as she wrapped up that train of thought. “You still had fun though, right?” he asked.

She smiled, and it didn’t even feel that hard anymore. “Yeah. I did.”

“I’m glad.”

If this were last week, she would have leaned across the game and kissed him. Even now, she could feel her heart start to race and her fingers twitching towards him. But she could get used to not having that if the alternative was not having Adrien in her life at all.

His friendship wasn’t some consolation prize. It was everything.

(Almost.)

Adrien carefully closed his Battleship case, drumming his fingers against the top. "Hey, Ladybug?"

"Y-yeah?"

“I know you said you have to go after this game, but if you ever want to stop by again…”

Excitement fluttered through her. He wanted her to come back!

“...I’ll leave the window open.”

Chapter Text

When Adrien walked out of his closet wearing the ugliest, puffiest, yellowest plaid jacket Ladybug had ever seen, she immediately burst out laughing. “That’s terrible!”

He put a hand to his chest, like an old woman clutching her pearls. “I am scandalized by that reaction, Miss Ladybug. This is fashion.”

Still giggling from her seat on the couch, Ladybug shook her head. “It’s no wonder the company gave this away for free.”

“Well, me wearing it was supposed to gain them publicity.”

“Did it make them go bankrupt instead?”

“No.” Adrien’s smile faded, and he took a sudden interest in fiddling with his coat buttons. “Someone would have actually had to see me wear it for that to happen, and I was never really allowed to choose what I wanted to wear outside the house. Plus, it always had to be Gabriel brand, so…”

Oh. Now she felt like an asshole. “Well, um…that’s okay. It’s not like you were missing much if that’s all you had to choose from.”

In the silence that followed her words, she played them back in her head. All she could hear was criticism. She’d only meant to tease him, but what if he’d taken it personally? What if he liked that awful waste of fabric and she’d just found a whole new way to crush his dreams?

But when Adrien looked back at her, he was smirking.

“Oh, don’t worry. I can do worse than this.” He winked—making her poor heart flutter—then disappeared into his closet.

Heaving a giant sigh, Ladybug collapsed back onto the couch. She was equal parts relieved and lovesick—with an emphasis on sick, because why the hell did she keep coming back here?

Today officially marked a week since she’d ended things, and somehow she felt as though she’d never loved him more.

She’d visited as much as she possibly could over the past few days, which was easier said than done when Alya kept trying to drag her into other social activities. Girl, you can’t mope forever. And you can’t keep ignoring my texts! It was all well-intentioned, but if she discovered the real reason Ladybug was avoiding her, she might not be so understanding.

But none of that mattered so long as Ladybug knew she was helping Adrien. Instead of running from him and dodging his calls, now she was the one showing up and hearing him out. Apparently she was simply better at being his friend than she’d been at being his girlfriend—no matter how much that hurt.

“Okay, get ready.” At the sound of Adrien’s voice, Ladybug sprung up and shoved her melancholic thoughts aside. “You’re going to love this one!”

He walked back out of the closet, approaching the sofa and doing a little twirl before he stopped. Ladybug wrinkled her nose.

“Crimes. Against. Fashion.”

“But it’s denim,” he argued, tipping his fedora. “Denim never goes out of style.”

“Sure.” She eyed his vest—which had puffy sections sewn between swatches of denim and had fringe—then glanced down at his jeans. They had the widest legs she’d ever seen. “Because for this outfit to go out of style, it would have had to be in style at some point.”

Adrien bent over laughing, and as much as she tried to resist, she couldn’t help but join him. He plopped down on the sofa beside her, still grinning from ear to ear. Just as she’d begun to catch her breath, their eyes met.

“I like making you laugh,” he said.

Then she was breathless all over again.

How could he just say things like that? How could he not realize he’d stopped her entire world? She wrapped her arms around her knees—like maybe she could trap the feeling inside herself if she physically held herself together.

“Th-that’s, um…me too. Laughing you—I mean, making you laugh.” She stared at her lap, fighting against an enormous wave of emotion. Of love.

It crashed over her despite all attempts to stop it, and she couldn’t handle the speed with which it tore through her veins. Its power was devastating. She’d barely gotten used to the rush when it began its withdrawal. Longing pulsed in its wake; once-peaceful shores were strewn with wreckage.

A sharp reminder of all that she’d lost.

“It’s not all bad, you know.” Adrien’s words sent a new jolt of fear through her—could he read her feelings?!—but when her eyes snapped back to him, he was pointing at his clothes. “If you want, I can show you the rest.”

She forced a wobbly smile. “You mean, something that won’t make me want to claw my eyes out?”

“Well, I hope so.” His eyes locked with hers, his cheeks dusted pink. “They’re such pretty eyes. We wouldn’t want that.”

Ladybug’s heart stuttered—she wasn’t sure she hadn’t just imagined his last words. Before she could figure out for sure, Adrien abruptly stood and started walking away.

He stopped halfway to across his room. “You coming?”

“Huh?”

“To see my closet.”

Eyes widening, Ladybug jumped up before he could change his mind. Seeing his closet?! Oh, she’d definitely imagined that before. Granted, it was usually in more of a seven minutes in heaven sort of way, but looking at clothes would be fun too.

Adrien was waiting near the door when she joined him. He greeted her with an awkward smile and waved her inside. She froze a few steps in, waiting for him to show her around. But he only urged her to take her time and have fun exploring. She didn’t need to be told twice.

Not that it wasn’t weird knowing he was watching her. She ran her fingers along a row of clothes, wishing she could feel the fabric beneath her gloves. Had she been left to her own devices, she might have pressed her cheek to the fabric.

On second thought, maybe it was for the best that she wasn’t alone.

Most of the clothing was standard Gabriel issue, but the back shelf—which had considerably more colour than the rest of the closet—boasted more variety. Some of it was just as outrageous as what he’d already shown her, but she did find a few things she wouldn’t have minded seeing him try—though she probably shouldn’t ask him to model a lace shirt for her right now.

Heat rushing to her face, she pushed that hanger aside. Then she shifted over a few more before returning to her leisurely perusal. When she neared the end of the rack, she found a few things that didn’t seem designer at all—clothes she thought Adrien might have picked out for himself. Smiling, she turned around to ask him about it, only to find him sitting on the ground beneath a rack of dress shirts.

She could only see his feet peeking out at first—the rest of his form was blocked by the open drawer of his dresser—but she quickly crossed the space to stand in front of him. Only then did she notice him clutching a familiar scarf to his chest.

“W-what’s that?” Ladybug asked. As if she hadn’t made it herself.

Adrien didn’t look up. “A birthday gift from my father.”

“It’s lovely.” Her words barely escaped past the lump in her throat, and Adrien failed to acknowledge them. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. Or maybe…

She knelt in front of him. “Are you okay?”

He sucked in a shaky breath. “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“You didn’t!” She winced when Adrien jumped at her volume. “Sorry. But, um…it’s really okay. And even if you did—hypothetically—ruin something, it would still be okay. Because…you’re allowed to have feelings, and…stuff.”

Eyes still locked on the scarf, he acknowledged her with the smallest twitch of his lips. “Well, I’m glad I’m allowed to have stuff, because…” He gestured around the closet. “I do have a lot of it.”

“Okay, see, if anything ruined the mood, it was that pun.”

“Fair enough,” he said with a huff of laughter.

“And you know what I mean.”

He closed his eyes, twisting the end of the scarf tightly around one finger. “I do. I just hate feeling like this.”

“Like what?”

Adrien merely shrugged. As his shoulders fell back to their usual level, he seemed impossibly small—hunched in on himself and hugging his elbows. He seemed so alone, and Ladybug couldn’t have that. She crawled over to sit beside him, ignoring the clothes that hung low enough to brush her hair, and scooched across the floor until their shoulders pressed together.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” She very much hoped he didn’t want to—Gabriel wasn’t exactly a safe subject between them. But she’d be a terrible friend if she didn’t give him the option. “But it’s also okay if you do.”

Adrien’s unsteady breaths filled the silence. His shoulders heaved up and down with each one, then finally settled as he let out a particularly long sigh. “I hate feeling so angry.”

Shame pierced her chest, leaving her crumpling in on herself to fill the space left behind. Except she couldn’t actually move; she could only picture Gabriel’s last moments, his body withering away. “I’m so sorry, Adrien. I should have tried harder to save him.”

“What?” Adrien turned sharply towards her, the scarf going slack in his hands. “Oh, Ladybug. No. I meant…”

He hesitated, eyes wide and glued to hers. As if he was willing her to understand. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his hand. Immediately, he squeezed back.

“I’m mad at him. Except he’s gone, so I can’t be.” Adrien shook his head. “I shouldn’t be. I should be better than that, right?”

“Adrien—”

“It shouldn’t matter that he never listened to me. That he wanted to send me away from all my friends even after I begged him to let me stay. Because he was still my father, right? He used to care about my day—or maybe he used to pretend, I don’t know. When my mom was still alive…I used to at least feel like he cared.”

Adrien sniffled, pulling his hand away to wipe his eyes. “And sometimes, after she died…it felt like he still did. Sometimes he’d make time to watch a movie with me, or he’d make me pancakes, or he’d…give me a scarf for my birthday instead of a pen.” He gave a choked laugh. “And I know how that sounds. But still…all these months, I thought I was the awful one. Because I couldn’t miss him the way I was supposed to. But he didn’t…he didn’t even make this scarf.”

A choked sob slipped out after his last word, but Ladybug barely even noticed. She was too busy trying not to drown in panic. “What do you mean, he didn’t make it? Who told you that?”

Adrien’s breath hitched. Tears streamed down his face. “Nobody told me.” He picked up the scarf, sliding his fingers along the fabric until he reached the end. He held it out to her. “I found this.”

Staring at her own signature, Ladybug couldn’t help but be a little pissed off at the universe. How could she have forgotten to sign so many cards, only to have left a signature for Adrien to find at the exact worst time?

“I’ve had this for a year, but I never knew…Marinette never said anything. And now it’s too late. I can’t ask her what happened. I can’t tell her how much it means to me.”

“How much what means to you?”

Adrien’s thumb stroked reverently across her signature, then lifted the scarf to his face. The fabric ruffled as he breathed in and out. “That she loved me for so long. Because she did. And it took me so long to realize what I had right in front of me, because…”

He glanced at Ladybug, eyes darting away before she could make sense of his expression.

“If only I’d known,” he continued. “If I’d recognized my feelings for her sooner…we could have had so much more time. And maybe things would have turned out differently. But now it’s just one more thing my father managed to ruin.”

Ladybug gasped, which—thankfully—Adrien didn’t seem to notice. He was crying harder now, angled away from her as he cradled the scarf to his cheek. It gave her a chance to stifle her own tears, to swallow down the bile rising up her throat.

Adrien blaming his father for ruining things came too close to the truth. What if he kept following that trail? If he kept picking things apart even further, he might discover the truth.

And she wasn’t ready to lose him all over again when he did.

His broken voice dragged her from those thoughts. “I still don’t even know why she did it. Why she broke up with me.”

Ladybug looked up at the clothes overhead, blinking rapidly. “Maybe she didn’t know how much it would hurt you,” she whispered. Which was a lie. She’d known how much Adrien loved her.

What she hadn’t anticipated was how much seeing his pain would hurt her.

Adrien regarded her strangely, and for a moment she thought she’d given too much away. But he only said, “That’s not a reason. I mean…maybe it’s why she put it off for so long, but it doesn’t explain anything.” He looked down, bunching the scarf into a disordered ball. “She was acting so weird around me those last few weeks we were together. And I was so afraid of there being something wrong that I just ignored it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ladybug said, grabbing his hand again. She needed to hold it one last time, in case she ran out of chances by tomorrow. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I didn’t do anything right.” He leaned against her shoulder, his body trembling. “It’s like I never get anything right.”

She wanted to tell him how insane that was—how many wonderful things he’d done for her, how amazing the world was because of him.

But she was too wrapped up in her own feelings.

Ladybug was the one who never got anything right. And it was hurting Adrien the most.

Chapter Text

The last day of break came too quickly, and with it the looming deadline for several assignments Marinette had been avoiding. But ten hours, four cups of coffee, and a flurry of frustrated tears later, even those were done. She had no remaining excuse to keep avoiding the other thing on her mind.

Adrien.

Since their impromptu board game hangout, she’d visited him almost every day. The only one she’d skipped—to give the illusion that she had a life outside of him—had been torture. She hadn’t attempted it again.

Tonight was different. All she could think about was seeing him at school tomorrow, without the safety of hiding behind Ladybug’s mask. She kept imagining the way he might look at her—like she’d ruined his life. And then she remembered all the secrets she kept. The ones that could ruin him another way entirely.

Maybe it was time to skip another visit; it wasn’t like he’d be expecting her. She’d told him about all the homework she’d put off.

The alternative though, was spending the next few hours pacing around her room like a caged demon. Which was already starting to make her skin crawl. So it was that sensation—and certainly not any sense of logic or self-preservation—that propelled her up to her balcony, dragged her through the night, and deposited her onto a now familiar windowsill.

Along the way, nervous energy had given way to excitement, to the promise that Adrien’s presence always held. Giving no thought to how his unlit room didn’t exactly invite company, she hopped down from her perch.

“Ladybug?” The sound of his voice—low and stilted—deflated her exhilaration as easily as popping bubble wrap. She ought to have known her mood was no more reliable than flimsy plastic.

Eyes sweeping through the darkness, she sought out Adrien, finding him seated sideways on the couch with his knees pulled up. He was in his pyjamas, hugging a throw pillow to his chest with his bare feet wedged beneath one of the cushions. A blanket hung around his shoulders, but it didn’t keep him from shivering as a wayward breeze snuck inside.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” he said.

Ladybug took a hesitant step closer, stopping short when a shock of pale moonlight stole over his features. He looked like a ghost.

“Y-yeah, um…me neither. But I was sort of nervous about tomorrow, and I thought…” She bit her lip. “Never mind. I can go, if it’s too late, or if—”

“No, no! I was just surprised, that’s all. But you’re always welcome.”

His voice had rekindled its warmth; there was no doubt he believed his words. But his claim—that she’d always be welcome—had already pierced through her useless plastic armour. Heart throbbing, she couldn’t help but wonder how easily he’d rescind that offer if he ever learned the truth of who she was or what she’d done.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Please?” He tapped the spot before him. “I could use the company.”

“Okay...”

Ladybug walked towards him on autopilot, sinking down onto the couch a safe half-cushion’s length away. Tucking one leg underneath her, she twisted around to face him. But she kept her fingers tightly laced in her lap, squeezing tighter when they tingled with the urge to reach for him. She had to get used to keeping her distance.

Adrien shifted closer. “Why are you nervous?”

“What?” Could he read her mind, or was she simply doing a terrible job of feigning normalcy? “I’m…not?”

“About tomorrow,” he clarified. “You just said—”

“Oh! Well, you know…” She waved her hands vaguely. “I, uh, have this essay to hand in, and people to see, and…stuff.” Acid climbed slowly up her throat as smiled uneasily. Yet another lie, burning her from the inside out.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll all go great.”

“Maybe…” That depends on you. “How are you feeling?”

“Um…” Adrien’s nails scraped against his pillow, fingers curling inwards as he pressed it back to his chest. His next words were croaked more than spoken. “Not great. Tomorrow… It’ll be the first time I see Marinette since, you know…”

Her chest felt tight. “That’ll be hard, I imagine.” Or impossible.

“Yeah…” Adrien laughed shakily. “It’s stupid, really. All I’ve wanted these past two weeks was a chance to see her. To talk things through. But now… I guess I’m not ready yet.”

“I get that.”

“I think…I’ve been trying not to think about her. Because I miss her so much, and I can’t make sense of it. But I can’t avoid her anymore. So I don’t know what to do, or what I want, or…anything, really.” He blinked rapidly, sucking in trembling breath. His eyes squeezed shut, and a tear slipped down his cheek.

Ladybug clenched her teeth, hands twitching once more to reach out for him. Dread weighed them down, radiating out from her chest and seeping through her limbs.

“Are you mad at her?” she asked softly, using all the air her leaden lungs could muster.

“I… I’m not mad. Or, at least, I don’t want to be. But…” His voice wavered, drawing Ladybug’s eyes to his wet lashes. They lifted slowly, his pupils darting to meet hers then fleeing just as quickly. He stared out his window instead, jaw working slowly. “I don’t think I want to be mad at myself anymore, either. I don’t want to keep feeling like this is my fault. Because I still can’t figure out what I did wrong. And if she won’t tell me—if she won’t even talk to me… Well, m-maybe I didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. And…that’s a good way of looking at it.”

It was the truth after all. It was what she wanted him to believe. Yet on some selfish level, it felt like he was giving up on her.

Adrien shrugged. “I’m not sure if I really believe it, but my friends—you know Nino and Alya, right?”

Ladybug nodded.

“Well, they keep telling me stuff like that, and Nino would probably say it regardless. He’d always have my back. But…if anyone knows what Marinette’s thinking, it would be Alya. And she’s really smart. She’s the kind of person you listen to, you know?”

“Yeah.” Not that Ladybug was doing a great job of that, lately. She forced a smile. “They sound like great friends.”

“The best. And Marinette…” He was silent for a long moment, tension thickening in the air as Ladybug’s heart pounded in her ears. “Well, she’s a great friend too. I just… I don’t know if she’s my friend anymore.”

Of course she is, Ladybug wanted to shout. But she swallowed her frustration down instead, letting it solidify into guilt. As Marinette, she hadn’t given any indication that she still wanted anything to do him.

What if Adrien decided he didn’t want anything to do with her?

“Do you want her to be your friend?” Ladybug held her breath, waiting for his response.

“Of course. But…”

But?!

“The idea of being around her now is… I think it would hurt too much.”

Adrien hugged his knees to his chest, resting his chin solemnly atop the pillow. Like he was trying to physically hold himself together. A feeling Ladybug understood all too well.

That had been her, two weeks ago—coming home from seeing him cry and wrapping herself in her blanket so tightly she could barely breathe. Not that she even remembered how to breathe without him.

But she didn’t feel that way anymore. True, sometimes loving him from a distance—mourning what they’d once had—felt like a jagged knife, carving out pieces of her. But there was always something new to fill the holes left behind. Seeing him was the only reason she’d stayed sane these last two weeks.

“The pain is worth it.” Ladybug only realized she’d spoken aloud when she felt Adrien’s eyes snap to her. She kept own gaze stubbornly fixed on her fingers. “I-I mean, I sort of know how you feel. Me and my—um, the boy I love, we… A while ago, we…”

We broke up, she meant to say, but her throat tightened around the words. She’d barely—if ever—spoken that truth aloud, and to admit it to Adrien of all people? Unfathomable.

His gaze bore into her, patiently waiting for her to continue. But the silence only gave her writhing feelings time to coil more tightly, forming a dense, pulsing ball. He rested a hand on her knee, squeezing gently.

She didn’t deserve that—his kindness. A sob burst free before she could stop it, her body shaking with another as she hid her face in her hands.

Adrien said something, his tone soothing but altogether too much. She couldn’t make sense of his words regardless, couldn’t hear them over her tears. But she could feel him move closer, could feel his arms wrap around her. She could feel herself cry harder.

It was bliss, being in his arms again. It was agony. Somehow her ear found his chest, his heartbeat. His hand smoothed down her hair. And little by little the world started making sense again.

Time became the cadence of his voice and space became the way she fit perfectly in his embrace. The blanket was draped around them both now. The space inside was safe enough to ease her cries into hiccups, and finally into tattered breaths.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “I-I thought I was ready to talk about it, b-but…”

“It’s okay.” Adrien rubbed her back. “You don’t have to.”

“But I want to. Because maybe talking about this will help you, and…” That’s all I want.

Adrien’s hands slid down her arms, his thumbs kneading soothing circles over her suit. Ladybug wondered if he even realized he was doing it. She wondered how long he’d keep doing it if she just sat there silently, drinking in his proximity.

Instead, she pulled away, wiping her tears. Adrien’s hands fell awkwardly to her sides, then retreated to his own lap. The blanket slid onto the floor. Ladybug tried to ignore the hollow feeling in her gut as she pressed on.

“I broke up with someone too. It was…” She panicked, realizing she couldn’t tell him the exact date. Hopefully he wouldn’t ask questions. “Recent.”

“I’m so sorry.” The compassion in Adrien’s voice was another knife to the heart. “I had no idea.”

“I didn’t want to tell you, because…” It hurt too much. “It was my fault. I couldn’t be honest with him about something, and I couldn’t keep lying to him either, so…I ended things. I really hurt him, like…like Marinette hurt you. And…I didn’t want you to know that about me.”

A long silence followed. Ladybug dug her fingers into her thigh, deep enough that a jolt of pain shot up one of her legs. Nothing near the pain she’d feel if Adrien asked her to leave—which he might, now that he knew what she’d done.

But his voice was calm when he finally spoke. “Why did you lie to him?”

“I-I can’t exactly explain. I mean, it’s complicated. And it might give away my identity, so…”

“Ah. I understand.” His words were clipped—like maybe he was frustrated by that answer. But when she looked up, his expression was nothing but sympathetic. “Do you still love him?”

His eyes flickered shades of emerald and jade in the moonlight. The answer to his question had never been so easy.

“More than anything.”

“Then you should try and fix things. Maybe it’s not too late. If you tell him the truth, and explain what happened—”

“No!” Her voice echoed around the room, shame creeping up her spine as the sound faded. “Sorry. I-I just meant it’s too late for that, okay? And he’s better off this way.”

“You can’t know that,” Adrien said. “He deserves the chance to decide for himself.”

Ladybug stared at him, heart beating so fast she was surprised it didn’t tear itself right out of her chest. She hadn’t meant for the conversation to take this turn. She had no idea where to go from here.

“The truth would hurt him,” she protested weakly. “And I…I can’t be the one to do that to him. Not like this.”

“You’re Ladybug. You’re braver than anyone I know.” His eyes hardened. “Why are you always so afraid of telling the truth?”

“That’s not fair.” Some part of her thought she should feel shame from Adrien’s reaction—he’d never really been angry with her before. But somewhere deep within her, a spark had been lit. It caught fire when his mouth opened to respond.

“And what do you mean, always?” She jumped up off the couch. “You barely even know me! And you don’t know anything about this.”

The resolve on Adrien’s face flickered, but that only pissed her off further. He was the one who’d started this! She crossed her arms, daring him not to back down.

“I just know,” he said slowly, “that if it were me, I’d want to know.”

Another argument was halfway to her lips when she processed his words; they doused her flames instantly. This was all her fault. Her mess.

And now she knew for a fact—she’d heard from Adrien’s own lips—that she’d done everything wrong.

She backed away quickly, nearly tripping over the corner of the coffee table as she went. Adrien made no move to help her. No move to stop her.

“I-I should go,” she said, her voice shaking. Then she whirled around and disappeared into the night.

She only made it halfway home before collapsing against a chimney and bursting into tears. The only reason she’d brought up the break up had been to reassure Adrien that being friends with him—with her ex—was worth it. No matter how much it hurt sometimes, she wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Now, she wasn’t even sure if it was hers to trade anymore.

Chapter Text

Marinette barely slept. She kept seeing Adrien’s face, its colour stripped by the moonlight. His eyes narrowed in disappointment.

If it were me, I’d want to know.

He didn’t know what he was saying! Nobody wanted to know their father had been a villain, or that their own life was tied to a pair of rings that could control them. If Adrien had understood the stakes of her secrets, surely he’d feel differently.

But the excuses didn’t work the way they once had, and by the time her mom called her down for breakfast for a third time, Marinette was practically shaking as she rolled out of bed and pulled on her clothes.

Adrien would hate her once he learned everything she’d been hiding. Everyone would know she was a terrible, no good liar.

Nobody would love her again.

Perhaps that outlook was a tad dramatic, but it didn’t feel that way when she showed up to school. Eyes swivelled her way as she walked the hallways. Whispers followed in her wake. And no matter what Alya said, she knew it wasn’t all in her head. Two weeks was plenty of time for the rumours of their break up to have spread.

But all those eyes were nothing compared to the moment she walked through the door of her literature classroom and came face to face with Adrien.

Why are you always so afraid of telling the truth?

He occupied his usual seat, in the front row. Up until today, the spot beside him had belonged to Marinette. Now, she was relieved to see that Nino had taken that chair.

At least, she was relieved until she remembered Nino wasn’t even in this class. And he was already standing up, sending her an unreadable look before his focus shifted to Alya who waited by the door. Marinette turned to watch them greet each other, letting their murmured hellos fade into background noise. The force of Adrien’s gaze pulled her attention back to him.

His eyes were red—maybe he hadn’t slept much either—but they met hers with an undeniable energy, one that seemed to transfer through the air between them, jolting down her spine as a smile crinkled his face. A smile she hated. It was all wrong, stagnant and pained. More precarious than even her tower of secrets. She looked away before she had to watch it collapse.

“H-hey.” He cleared his throat. “How was your break?”

Allowing herself to look up once more, she saw that Adrien’s smile hadn’t yet fallen. It had softened, even. His eyes brimmed with a glimmer of hope and darted briefly to the seat beside him.

Maybe she still had a chance.

But her heart beat so hard it seemed to disconnect from her body and lodge itself in her throat. She tried to return his greeting, but all that escaped was a strangled sound. Adrien’s forehead furrowed, and a swarm of butterflies erupted in her stomach.

You’re Ladybug. You’re braver than anyone I know.

Marinette fled to the back of the class, taking a seat in the far corner and keeping her eyes glued to her desk until class began.

The courtyard in front of the school was nearly empty when Marinette stepped outside; only a few stragglers remained. Given that she’d hidden in the bathroom for half an hour after the final bell, that was hardly surprising. But it was still a relief not to see anyone she recognized. She just wanted to get home.

Actually getting her limbs to obey that wish was another matter entirely. The grey skies matched her spirits, spreading gloom across the world. It had been raining on and off all day, and the ominous swell of the clouds suggested that maybe the sky wasn’t done weeping yet.

Marinette hadn’t remembered an umbrella that morning. She’d barely even remembered her shoes.

She was half-heartedly debating the ethics of faking an emergency and summoning Pegasus to teleport her home when the door to the school clicked open behind her. Mindlessly, she stepped out of the way to hug the side of the landing. She was about to hurry down the stairs when a sharp gasp stopped her short.

Somehow, even before Marinette whirled around to face the source of the sound, she knew who it belonged to. But that didn’t mean she was prepared to see Adrien standing there—far from it.

Forgetting how close she was to the stairs, she took a hasty step back. Her foot landed on the edge of the of the step, and her arms windmilled to catch her balance. Adrien lunged forwards just as her wrist collided rather painfully with the railing, and she fumbled for a hold, managing to steady herself before he could reach her.

His outstretched arm hovered by her side, fingers brushing the sleeve of her coat. The ghost of his touch crept beneath the fabric as he pulled away, making her skin burn.

“Are you okay?” he asked shakily.

“I…” Her voice stuck in her throat. “I was just going home.” Even for this, she couldn’t seem to give him a straight answer.

Heavy breaths—Adrien’s and hers—made tiny clouds in the space between them, nearly close enough to touch. But they were too out of sync. They dispersed too quickly.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded. “I only want to talk.”

Marinette gripped the handrail so tightly her fingers were practically numb. She didn’t think she could speak without bursting into tears.

“Please, Marinette. I can’t just—this isn’t fair. You never even gave me a chance, or an explanation, or—” His voice cracked. “I don’t understand.”

I’m sorry, she tried to say. But the words were jagged in her throat, tangling together and sending spikes of pain through her chest.

Adrien gripped his wrist, twisting his fingers around it. Then he froze, staring at the empty space where he’d sometimes worn her lucky charm. His shoulders slumped.

“L-look. I respect your decision, and I’ll respect your feelings and your space as much as I can. But I deserve the chance to say my piece too.” His eyes shot back up to hers. “You owe me that much!”

Marinette could only stare at him, heart seizing in her chest as her mind flashed back to last night. The same fire was in his eyes. The same frustration rippled around him.

Her lips quivered, and some strangled sound slipped out. She smacked a hand to her mouth, trying to hide it. To push it back in.

But Adrien’s face had already fallen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I just wanted to…” He sighed. “Never mind. I’ll go.”

As he began to turn away, fear erupted like icicles in her gut. She couldn’t watch him walk away. She couldn’t lose him. Not again.

That urgency was enough for her feelings to disentangle from her throat. For her words to find their way again.

“No—wait.” She waited for his eyes to dart warily back to hers. “You’re right.”

“I-I am?”

Hesitantly, she nodded. “I’ve been awful to you, I know that. A-and you deserve answers.” I just can’t give you the right ones. “What do you want to know?”

For a long while, Adrien was silent. Marinette feared she was too late. But then, in a voice so small she wanted to scoop it up in her hand (and cradle it close to her heart), he blurted out his response.

“I just want to know why. I mean, I thought we were fine. And then…”

Marinette looked away. “I don’t know if I have a good answer. I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Oh.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, only to remove them a second later. “Is there anything I could have done differently? Like, did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you, or—”

“No. God, Adrien, no.” Wind grazed her cheeks, lending a fiery heat to her next words. “You were perfect. This was all me.”

“Then what was it?” An edge crept into his voice. “Because nothing you’ve said so far makes any sense.”

“I guess…I just wasn’t ready.” Would he realize her words lilted like a question—that she was just making things up as she went along?”

But it was true, in some sense. She hadn’t been ready to bear the weight of Gabriel’s secrets.

“So it was me,” Adrien said. “Because I pushed you—”

“No! You were so, so patient. And I—well, it wasn’t you. Trust me, if the world was nothing but you and me, I’d never want to spend a minute away from you. Which I know doesn’t make any sense, but—” she broke off with a noise of frustration. “It’s everything else, okay? Not you. It was just too much for me.”

“But…if something was bothering you, or hurting you, or…” He shook his head. “I could have helped you with that.”

“No. Not with this.”

He stepped closer. “Can’t you let me try?”

Tears stung her eyes. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she fought to hold them in. “I-I can’t explain. Believe me, I want to, but…” I’m a coward.

“Marinette…”

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. The echoes of her name—of his voice—played on a loop. She lost herself in the warmth of the sound. The way it trembled slightly, begging her to give something back. To steady it.

It could be so easy. She could at least give him something—one truth that seemed safe to pull out from her pile of secrets. After all, the truth was what he wanted. And if she pulled a little too hard, if the rest came tumbling down along with it, then maybe that wasn’t her fault.

Except she was Marinette right now. She wasn’t supposed to know anything about Monarch. But without the things only Ladybug could know, she couldn’t truthfully explain the break up even if she wanted to.

She clenched her hands into fists at her side, trying to siphon the phantom pain in her chest into something physical. But her heart only cracked open wider. “You’re better off without me, okay?”

“No! That’s ridiculous.” The intensity of his voice made her eyes fly open. He stood dangerously close, sections of his hair standing on end like he’d run his fingers through them. “You can’t just decide that for me!”

A hot tear rolled down her cheek. Then another one. Marinette saw Adrien realize. She saw his eyes soften. But unlike last night, he made no move to comfort her.

“I’m so sorry,” she sniffled, hastily wiping her eyes. “More than anything, I hate that I hurt you.”

Adrien crossed his arms, fingers digging into his biceps. “You know that hurts the most? That you wouldn’t even talk to me. I would have thought…well, I never would have imagined us breaking up at all, but…” He took a shaky breath. “I at least thought I’d have you in my life.”

“I wanted to,” she said desperately. “I just didn’t know how, and…”

“And what?”

“I didn’t want to see you hate me.”

A funny sort of expression flashed across Adrien’s face, and something wet landed on her cheek. She dismissed it as another tear, until a few more drops fell. It was raining.

From the corner of her eye, she watched his car pull up on the street behind him. Their time was running out. And maybe that was for the best—so Adrien could move on, or even so she could move on.

Except she couldn’t move on when Adrien’s stare kept her frozen.

“I could never hate you,” he said. “Meeting you was…one of the best things that ever could have happened. You helped teach me what it means to have a friend. How to stand up for what I believe in. And how to…” He turned away, blinking hard. “How to feel loved. So even if… Even with the way things ended, I’m glad I fell in love with you. That I got the chance to really know you.”

Marinette’s stomach flipped guiltily. Did he really know her?

“And I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to imagine it. S-so I hope that… I would really like to keep being your friend.”

He looked back at her, and a strange feeling shot through her like a flash of lightning—an odd sense that she’d lived this moment before.

Adrien reached for her hand, pausing uncertainly as their knuckles grazed. Heart hammering in her chest, Marinette responded by carefully wrapping one of her fingers around his. And then another one. And another.

He shifted his hold, fingers warm as they clasped hers. And oh, how different it was, holding his hand outside of the suit. She felt so alive, sensations she didn’t have names for dancing along her skin and through her veins and sweetening the very air she breathed.

But he let go too soon, fingers pulling away while the whispers of his touch still crept their way up her arm.

“I-I want that too,” Marinette said, panic clawing at her as he drew away. “I’ll always be your friend.”

Adrien smiled, and then it hit her—why this moment felt so familiar. It was a different set of steps, a different school. It was trying to fall out of love instead of into it. But there was the rain, and Adrien’s smile, and the soft swell of his laughter a moment later when a gust of wind blew her hair into her face. She giggled with him as she tucked the lock behind her ear.

All too soon, the moment was over. They were left staring at each other with the pieces of their love still swept up in the world around them. Adrien glanced behind him, seeming to notice for the first time the car waiting for him. “I should probably go.”

“Y-yeah,” Marinette said. “Goodbye.”

Adrien nodded, still not looking at her. “Bye.”

He adjusted his bag and started down the stairs, and her stomach sank lower with each step he took, until he paused near the bottom, turning back to send an easy smile in her direction. “See you tomorrow.”

She tried to reply, but found herself just as tongue-tied as she had the first day they’d met. Though this time the culprit wasn’t so much her nerves as the lump in her throat.

Adrien got into the car without another glance behind him, leaving Marinette alone in the rain. This time, there was no umbrella to protect her.

Chapter Text

Marinette flung herself into bed, groaning as her face sank slowly into her pillow. She remained there, stiff as a board, until her throat screamed for air. And even then, she did wonder for a few moments longer how much she really needed to breathe.

Survival instincts won out. With the last of her strength—and with all the grace of an overcooked strand of spaghetti—she flipped onto her back, blowing a tuft of hair out of her eyes as she glared up at her skylight. Upon realizing her mouth still tasted vaguely of cotton, she slowly slid her tongue past her teeth, trying to scrape off her pillow’s stale imprint.

It hadn't been a great week.

Not that it had been so terrible, either. But she wouldn't entirely mind if her mattress swallowed her whole.

Maybe she could even find some sort of Guardian potion to facilitate that process—a magical cure to prevent herself from further embarrassing herself in front of her ex (side effects may include suffocation via comforter).

Marinette sighed. "Why does the universe hate me?"

"The universe doesn't hate you," Tikki replied cheerily. "It doesn't have the capacity to think about you at all."

Another groan slipped out in response, but Marinette didn’t have the energy to fix her Kwami with the glare she deserved. Besides, Tikki probably hadn’t meant to sound so dismissive.

Probably.

“At least I still have patrol tonight,” Marinette grumbled, feeling blindly around for the throw blanket bundled up somewhere near the end of the bed—just beyond her reach, apparently. She gave up and rolled onto her side, hugging herself to hold onto what little warmth she had left. Chat Noir always cheers me up.

But Tikki was still determined to be the bearer of bad news. “You might want to transform and check your messages.”

Marinette rolled back over and screamed into her pillow.

Throat raw, and unable to shake the heaviness seeping through her limbs, Ladybug climbed up onto her balcony, heaving a hefty sigh at the already darkening sky. The city was peaceful—just a bustle of cars and a lull of pedestrian voices. Part of her actually longed to hear some faraway scream, or to see an explosion light up the clouds.

Part of her wished for an Akuma.

She knew that was awful, but at least it meant she wouldn’t be alone.

Since the break-up, she had almost always had someone around. If she wasn’t hanging out with Adrien, then Alya was dragging her out to do something. Even her parents had started joking that it was nice to see her downstairs once in a while.

So, as much as it wasn’t Chat Noir’s fault for feeling under the weather, Ladybug couldn’t help the bitterness curdling in her veins—didn’t he care about the city? About her?

Paying more attention to the rant inside her head than the direction she was heading, Ladybug could honestly say that for once she didn’t mean to end up at Adrien’s. The path was merely instinctual, like her heart knew no other way.

She didn’t even notice her mistake until she noticed him, sitting ramrod straight beneath the arch that had once framed his mother’s statue. He was nearly as poised as his predecessor's chiselled stone, save for the way he slid his feet back and forth against the ground. And there was something clutched in his hands, something Ladybug couldn’t quite make out before his gaze jerked abruptly upwards.

They locked eyes at the height of her swing between buildings, stealing the breath from her lungs. All week at school, she’d been too afraid to meet those eyes for more than a split-second, and half the time when she worked up the courage to glance Adrien’s way, he’d already averted his stare.

But now she had his full attention. As her yo-yo detached from its previous perch, her shock was enough she forgot to toss it towards the next. And she barely even registered that until Adrien’s eyes widened, by which point it was far too late to save her dignity.

To be fair, that had already been in short supply.

She crash-landed, straddling the bannister leading down the staircase. That was humiliating enough on its own, but with a yelp of alarm she soon realized that momentum was still carrying her forwards. Tucking her head against her chest, she managed an awkward somersault down the incline. But her path hadn’t exactly been straight, so she tumbled off the edge not halfway down, landing hard on her butt on the grass below.

“Ow,” she groaned—purely out of habit. With the suit’s protection, she’d really only hurt her pride.

Adrien didn’t seem to realize that.

“Ladybug!” He rushed towards her, feet slapping on the stone walkway then whispering through the grass. He knelt by her side, reaching for her shoulder. “Are you all—”

“Yes! Yep! Yesiree!” She waved an overenthusiastic hand, accidentally knocking his arm away. “Hot and dandy, I am!”

His eyebrows flew up in alarm.

“No, no, no. Don’t worry.” She forced a laugh. “I was just, um, testing out my reflexes. Guess they still need some work.”

“Perhaps a bit…” His lips twitched. “Unless you were aiming for a crash lawn-ding.”

“That…was awful.”

“Brilliant, you mean? I know! And I should also say, it’s ironic that you know how to make such an entrance when you fall like leaves.”

“I…”

“Oh no, you’re not laughing—and these jokes are so good! Don’t tell me the crash broke your funny bone.”

That time, she couldn’t help it. An unattractive snort slipped out, one that made her squeak and slap an embarrassed hand to her mouth. But she didn’t mind it so much when Adrien burst out laughing, the sound a balm against her heated cheeks—at least until tears sprung to her eyes.

They were tears of laughter, at first. But their sting was too familiar, the squeeze of her heart too sharp. She’d missed this, more than she could put into words. She’d fall from a million yo-yo strings to dive headfirst into a moment like this. But it didn’t quite feel like her moment.

It felt like borrowed time.

The smile faded from Adrien’s face, and Ladybug wondered if he’d realized that too. He cleared his throat, gaze dropping to his lap.

“S-sorry. I should, um—I mean, if you’re sure you’re okay, then…” His fingers skimmed the grass at his sides, then curled into his palms as he rose from his knees. “I’ll leave you be.”

Any lingering sweetness, borne of shared laughter, turned bitter and heavy on her tongue. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known he’d want nothing to do with Ladybug now; she’d avoided him all week for precisely that reason. But the sinking feeling in her gut from urging her to curl into a ball and cry.

Instead, she scrambled to her feet. “Adrien, wait. You shouldn’t have to leave. I-I mean, it’s your home, and I really didn’t mean to—well, I know you don’t want me here. So I’ll just, um… I’ll go.”

She raised her arm, blinking hard as she moved to toss her yo-yo towards a nearby chimney, only to freeze at the sound of Adrien’s voice.

“Wait. Why wouldn’t I want you here?”

Gaping, she whirled back to face him. “Well, because! You—”

The look in his eyes stopped her short. Did he really expect her to say it? To put into words the way she’d disappointed him?

She rolled her wrist nervously. “Because. After last time…”

His face fell. “You’re still mad.”

“No, I—hold on, what? Why would I have been mad?”

“You seemed mad. And I know it wasn’t fair of me, to judge you for whatever happened with your relationship when I don’t even know the whole story.”

It was uniquely fair of him to judge, but she couldn’t exactly admit that. So she simply shook her head. “You were right, though.”

“About what?”

“My boyfriend. That he deserved to know…more.” She stared at her feet. “I-I actually talked to him, a bit. It was nice.”

Even if they’d barely spoken since Monday after school—at least not regarding anything of substance. They’d been paired together for a project in their literature class, and had spent the entire period debating the merits of powerpoint versus prezi. Not exactly scintillating—although Adrien did have some pretty strong opinions on slide transitions, as it turned out.

“That’s cool,” he said now. “So…you’re back together?”

She tilted her head in confusion.

“You called him your boyfriend,” Adrien explained.

“Oh! No, no, no. Force of habit, that’s all. But, um… I do think we’re going to try being friends again, so…”

A prickle of fear ran through her as soon as the words left her mouth. Hadn’t she told him last time that she was already friends with her ex? At the very least, she’d insinuated as much. But Adrien only smiled.

“See?” he said. “I knew you were brave.”

Her heart did a tiny somersault. Or possibly a full-fledged gymnastics routine—who was to say?

She ducked her head. “I-I don’t know if I’d say that. I did try to hide from him in the bathroom first.”

“Well, naturally. You need to flush out the nerves some way or other.”

Ladybug bit back a smile.

Silence fell when she couldn’t think of anything to say in response, and it was hard to decide how she felt about that. It wasn’t fully comfortable, but it wasn’t agonizing, either. Not until she remembered what had sparked last weekend’s disagreement.

Adrien wanted answers.

Protecting her secret identity had been a convenient excuse to avoid spilling her secrets all week at school. And when she’d first started visiting him as Ladybug, it had been easy enough to tell herself that it was different being friends with him—that maybe she didn’t owe him the entire truth, and maybe it was more important to just be there for him, anyways.

It wasn’t so black and white anymore. But it wasn’t so simple, either. If she told him now, what would even have been the point of everything she’d put him through lately?

If she told him now, would he ever forgive her?

Busy contemplating that a million other life-defining questions, she barely noticed that Adrien had wandered away from her. Then a flicker in her periphery caught her off guard, and she jumped, spinning around to see him picking something up from spot she’d initially found him sitting. It was a video game controller, which seemed an odd thing to bring outside, but she was hardly one to judge.

Still, when Adrien looked up at the sky, she found she could at least tease him about it. “Trying to control the weather?”

He startled a little, sending a sheepish glance her way before his eyes returned to the controller clutched in both his hands. “Heh. Not exactly, no…”

Ladybug frowned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiled tightly. “It’s just that when I got home from school today, I thought I’d maybe play some video games to wind down. But I kept thinking about seeing Marinette at school today while I was waiting for the game to load, and…”

He sighed. “We had one of our first dates out here. I set out a picnic blanket, set up a screen, and we played video games. Then we sort of just lay watching the clouds for a while.”

“That sounds” —Ladybug swallowed— “really nice.”

“Yeah…” Adrien’s eyes drifted skywards again, and a dopy grin stretched across his cheeks. “We almost had our first kiss then, too. At least I think we might have. But I guess… I don’t really know what she was thinking.”

With another loud sigh, he sank down onto the bench, leaving a space for her to sit as well. She wasn’t sure if he’d done so consciously or not, and she wasn’t sure if she should join him. It was hard enough to keep from blurting out how much she’d wanted then—and now—even from several metres away. But when he smiled in her direction, the choice was made for her. She took a deep breath and ignored her pounding heartbeat as she carefully crossed the yard.

By the time she sat down, a question was burning the end of her tongue—one she thought she probably shouldn’t ask. But when Adrien didn’t say anything further, her curiosity won out. “How is it going with Marinette?”

“It’s…going, I guess.” He gave a strained chuckle. “We talked a bit too, and I think we’re trying to friends, but…”

“It’s still too soon?” she guessed.

“I don’t know. I thought that, at first—that I just wasn’t ready to forgive her. But now I kind of think it’s more than that.”

A sharp metallic taste flooded her mouth. "Y-you don't want to be her friend at all?" she croaked.

He shook his head firmly. “No, it’s definitely not that. I guess I just…don’t know how to act around her. Like, before we got together, I used to make her uncomfortable sometimes. And I thought we’d gotten past that, but now…well, what if I did something to make her feel that way when we were together. What if she felt that way the whole time and just got better at hiding it?”

“That’s not true!”

Adrien’s eyes snapped to hers, and she swallowed, heart thudding in her chest. Maybe that had been a little too enthusiastic.

“I mean, that can’t be true,” she amended. “She didn’t say that, did she?”

“No. She said it wasn’t anything I did, but…how do I know she just wasn’t lying to make me feel better?”

Ladybug opened her mouth, another rebuttal ready to go, only to abruptly slam her lips shut. She’d been about to tell him he should trust Marinette—but how could she say that with all the secrets she kept?

“I don’t think she’d lie about that,” she said instead.

Despite the statement’s truth, it felt like a lie in and of itself. So she had to keep going, to justify her words somehow.

“Because it’s you. And you’re so sweet, and patient, and kind, and…” She sent him a look, eyes playfully narrowed. “...funny, even if your puns are the absolute worst.”

She expected laughter for that, but when she worked her way up to meeting Adrien’s eyes again, they were filled with a startled awe. “You really think so?”

“Of course I do.”

Without thinking, she reached for his hand, heart leaping when he squeezed her fingers back with a soft smile.

“Ladybug,” he said, “if you’re not mad at me, then are we still—can we still be friends?”

The sun emerged from beyond a cloud just then, its light temporarily blinding Ladybug—flashing a warning, maybe. But all Ladybug could see when she ducked her eyes were the tiny rainbows the sun had spilled upon the dew-soaked grass. She smiled.

“We’ll always be friends, Adrien.”

Maybe she ought to tell him the truth. Maybe one day she would.

But for today she could hold Adrien’s hand one last time, and dream up more ways to make him laugh.

Chapter Text

“Just admit it,” Adrien said, his smile far too innocent for someone holding the popcorn hostage. “You like my puns.”

From the other end of his sofa, Ladybug scowled. “I never said that.”

“But you laughed.”

“I was reading my messages!”

He shot a pointed look at her yo-yo, which remained secured to her hip. “I didn’t see you take out a phone.”

“Well then…my brain must have glitched or something.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It did. That can happen!”

With a quirk of his eyebrows, Adrien reached a hand slowly into the popcorn bowl, dramatically swirling the kernels near the surface. “Don’t tell me you think they’re—”

“Don’t you dare—”

“—corny.”

A giggle slipped out before she could stop it.

“Ah-ha!” Popcorn sprayed from the bowl as Adrien tossed a triumphant fist in the air. “I knew it!”

“Whatever.” Ladybug crossed her arms. “Any evidence you gather under duress doesn’t count.”

“I hardly think holding the snacks hostage counts as under duress. You said you weren’t even hungry.”

“I changed my mind.”

A devious smile snuck onto his face. “Okay then. Catch!”

Without warning—well, maybe his words technically had been warning, but she’d been too busy fighting a smile to fully process them—Adrien tossed a piece of popcorn her way. She glared when it bounced off her cheek.

“No fair, I wasn’t—” A second kernel hit her forehead. “Hey! I wasn’t ready!”

The onslaught only grew worse. Soon he was throwing kernels by the fistful, which ought to have increased her chances of catching at least one in her mouth. Except she turned out to be terrible at this game. Seriously. She had all the coordination of a drunk giraffe bobbing for apples.

But she didn’t have the heart to feel embarrassed about it. Not when Adrien’s laughter swelled around her like the softest, warmest embrace.

The snack bowl was half-empty when he flopped back against the couch to catch his breath, a smile still stretched as widely as his cheeks allowed. His head lolled against the back cushion, eyes softening as his face turned her way.

Wow.

Sometimes she forgot how effortlessly he could steal the air from her lungs. All it took was the slightest crinkle of his eyes. The tiniest twitch of his lips. And suddenly it was all she could do to keep from crawling over to kiss the smirk off his face.

With a deep breath, she shoved those feelings away.

“Come on,” she pouted. “One more try!”

Adrien snorted. “At this rate, we won’t have any popcorn left.” He glanced down at the bowl, giving its contents a half-hearted swirl. “Although, I suppose I could give you one last chance…”

Ladybug grinned.

“If you admit you like my puns.”

With a dramatic huff, she turned to face the TV. “Out of the question.”

“Okay then.” She heard him gather another handful of popcorn. “More for me.”

Her stomach chose that moment to let out an obnoxious growl, making Adrien snicker. But she refused to give in. Even if she could feel him staring, slowly melting away her composure.

Then he cleared his throat, and she knew she was in trouble—it had been too loud, too done up for effect. He made an even bigger display of reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, and she had to clench her teeth to keep from smiling.

“Come on,” he said, dangling the controller in front of her face. “Are you really saying I’m not even…remotely funny?”

“Nope,” she spat out slowly, popping the p.

“Annoying, then? Like maybe…” He leaned in closer, his breath tickling the hairs on the back of her neck. “I’m pushing your buttons?”

“Okay, that’s it.”

Ripping the remote from his hand, she made a play for the popcorn by throwing her weight sideways, trying to knock his shoulder off-balance so she could scoop up the bowl. Instead, it went tumbling to the ground. And although she probably could have caught it, Adrien wrapped his arms around her waist before she could lunge forwards.

“Let me go!” she squealed. “The popcorn!”

Her protest came too late—the bowl was already overturned on the floor—but that didn’t keep her from trying to squirm out of his grip. Well, sort of trying. It was a fight she could have easily won with her suit’s strength, were it not for the thrill of his arms tightening around her waist, pulling her closer. That made her forget why she’d wanted to escape in the first place.

When had she ended up in his lap?

“You should have considered the consequences of refusing to acknowledge my superior wit.” His words were hot on her ear.

Her breath hitched. When she twisted around, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, his arms loosened around her waist. She took the opportunity to turn around fully, straddling his waist as his hands fell down to the small of her back.

The sparkle in his eyes was intoxicating. As was his breath, puffing warmly against her chin. So it really wasn’t her fault that sliding her hands up to his shoulders suddenly seemed like a good idea.

“Maybe this was my goal all along,” she murmured.

Adrien froze. “What?”

Shit.

Scrambling off his lap, she meant to retreat to the opposite end of the couch. Or maybe fall off of it completely—so she could blame whatever stupid thing she’d inevitably say next on a head injury. But she was still tangled up in his arms. She only made it as far as the cushion directly beside him, leaving her legs draped over his. When she looked up, his face was still right there, his brow adorably furrowed.

“N-nothing!” She gestured vaguely, nearly hitting him in the eye. She winced. “I just meant the popcorn, obviously. It was, uh, my diabolical plan! To keep you from enjoying buttery, salty goodness! Because it’s not good for your heart, you know? And I’m a superhero, so protecting people—their hearts included—is my job! It’s not that I like being wrapped up in your arms or anything—ha! Could you imagine?”

Adrien’s only response was a long, befuddled blink.

A hand still lingered on her thigh, one he’d probably just forgotten about. Unless he, too, was wondering what might happen if his fingers slid a little higher. She could imagine it all too well, how if she let herself sink any deeper into his warmth, revelling in the echoes of their shared laughter…

She’d never want to let go.

This past week, it had been so easy to slip back into being friends with him. Too easy, maybe. Her boundaries had started to blur.

But was that really so wrong? So what if she let her eyes wander down to his lips? If she couldn’t help but fantasize, just for a moment, about how they’d feel pressed up against hers?

It wasn’t like Adrien seemed to mind. His gaze, she realized with a thrill, had also drifted downwards. And there was some unreadable emotion in his half-lidded eyes, something she had her shifting closer despite the alarm bells blaring in the back of her mind.

Then his eyes snapped back to hers.

Euphoria drained from her chest like sand through an hourglass; at first there was an overwhelming surge to the centre, but then everything got stuck. There was only so much she could process at once—or maybe ever. And the way she loved Adrien was steady. Never-ending. If she ever thought things had finally settled, it only meant her world was about to be overturned once more.

She didn’t deserve the adoration in his eyes. Not after everything she’d put him through.

All her lies.

It was too close to how he used to look at her.

As tears blurred her vision, she sprung up off the couch. “Sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” She hastily wiped her eyes. “I’ll clean up!”

“W-wait. You don’t have to—”

“No, no, no! This was all my fault. I made a huge mess, and I wasted food.” She bent down, realizing the bowl had done another flip after spilling out most of its contents, ultimately landing right-side up. She scooped it up and shoved it back into Adrien’s lap. So she couldn’t do anything else stupid, like sit there herself. “There you go!”

She meant to sit on the far opposite end of the couch after that, but lost her balance and ended up landing a within a half-cushion’s length of him. Close enough that she accidentally grazed his hand in her attempt to shift farther away. His touch burned through her glove.

“The remote!” She twisted away from Adrien, feeling between the cracks in the cushions. “Where did that silly thing go?”

“Uh… I don’t know? But maybe—”

“We should definitely find it! Right now!”

Ignoring Adrien’s continued protests, she lifted off one of the back cushions and tossed it off the couch, wincing as it thudded against the wall behind his bed. Maybe she’d thrown it a little too hard.

If only she’d noticed that before the second cushion was mid-flight.

When the couch was mostly bare—save for the seat where Adrien still sat, probably wishing he’d never invited her inside—Ladybug dropped to the floor. A wave of tension eased from her shoulders when she finally spotted the remote beneath the couch, amidst of cluster of popcorn. Then she tensed back up, realizing she had no more excuse to keep avoiding Adrien.

Slowly, fighting the dread swirling through her, she rose so her feet and sat stiffly sat on the edge of the cushionless end of the couch. The height difference between the seats made her feel all the more humiliated as she shakily raised the remote and pressed the button to turn on the TV.

Nothing happened.

Adrien shifted beside her. “Are you sure you’re…comfortable like this?”

She ignored him, frantically tapping a few more buttons on the remote in the hopes of unlocking some secret passcode—why was using someone else’s TV remote like trying to learn a foreign language?

Just as she was about to give up hope and toss herself out the window, the screen clicked on. And luckily, it was already set to the Netflix menu. She clicked the first title that appeared—some anime she’d never heard of, that Adrien seemed to be halfway through watching. Oh well. It wasn’t like she’d be able to pay attention anyways.

As the theme song blared on, Adrien cleared his throat. “Ladybug, um, wouldn’t you rather—”

“Shhh.” She pointed at the screen. “No talking during the show!”

What followed were perhaps the most awkward twenty minutes of her life. Which was really saying something. But at least overwhelming embarrassment kept her from feeling the full weight of her guilt. She simply kept her eyes fixed ahead, struggling to make sense of the subtitles. She soon gave up on that, settling for watching images flash across a tiny corner of the screen.

As the episode neared its end, Adrien began drumming his fingers against the popcorn bowl. The sound nearly made her jump right out of her seat at first, but soon the repetitive rhythm relaxed her.

For the most part.

Tap-tap-tap.

Clang-tap-tap.

Tap-tap-tap.

CLANG-tap-tap.

Huh. So the pattern was a bit uneven.

She glanced over, curious as to what was causing the discrepancy, only to immediately avert her eyes when the rhythm faltered. Shit. She’d been caught looking.

On the TV, the ending credits blurred into the next episode. Adrien’s hands slowly resumed their stilted song.

Tap-tap-tap. Clang-tap-tap.

It took her longer than it should to realize the odd sound out was the result of a ring hitting the plastic. Then it took a few seconds more to register why that unsettled her.

Shouldn’t there be a clang from both of his hands?

This time, she was careful to shift her gaze slowly, refraining from any sudden moves—even when her heart seized at the sight of his bare hand. Clearly she’d just mixed up left and right again.

That couldn’t be the hand where he wore his Amoks.

His other hand was hidden behind the bowl. She needed to see it.

Maintaining her earlier caution, she scooched backwards on the sofa, then tucked her knees beneath her, slowly raising herself up to get a better look. She was nearly standing upright when the drumming noise halted again, but Ladybug barely noticed amidst the blood rushing to her ears.

As Adrien had begun turning towards her, she’d finally gotten a glimpse of his other hand.

“Where are they?” she demanded.

Adrien’s eyes went wide. “Huh?”

“Your rings!” She leaped off the couch, waving her arms in front of him. “The ones I gave you!”

“Oh. They’re just—”

“You were supposed to wear them.

“Well, uh…” His focus shifted down to his lap, where his thumb fiddled idly with the spot where his Amoks were meant to sit. “You see, my hands were getting a little heavy with all the bling, so…”

He glanced up with a nervous smile. Ladybug glared back.

“This isn’t a joke!” she said. “Where did you put them?”

Without waiting for an answer, she started pacing the room, searching frantically for a flash of silver. She was only faintly aware of Adrien scrambling off the couch to follow.

“Wait. What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to find your rings,” she hissed, crouching to examine the shelves beside his desk. When that revealed nothing, she turned her attention to the bed.

“I get that,” Adrien said. “But why do you—hey!”

Ignoring his protest at her throwing the couch cushions back across the room, Ladybug moved on to his pillows. When that revealed nothing, she tore his comforter off as well, shaking it furiously. Nothing tumbled out.

“Ladybug, what the—” He broke off when she whirled around to face him.

When she realized how close he was standing, she didn’t think twice before poking a finger into his chest. “Where. Are. They?”

Adrien took a step back, eyes narrowing. “Why do you care?”

“That’s… I’ll tell you later! Right now I need to find them. So would you just answer me?”

For a long moment, he just stood there, fuming. As if he didn’t even care she was seconds away from a heart attack. Then, with an infuriating determination, he bit out a single word.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no? This is important!”

“If it’s such a big deal, then tell me why.”

“Because!” she snapped. “What if you lose them? If they fall down the drain, or in the trash, or if…if somebody steals them?!”

“That seems unlikely.”

“You don’t know that!”

It took a few seconds of staring into his wide, terrified eyes for Ladybug to realize she’d shouted. That she’d been shouting for a while now.

He’d done nothing to deserve that.

She took a deep breath, fighting back tears. “Adrien, please.”

He hugged his elbows, fingers digging into his sleeves. “Why won’t you just tell me?” His voice wavered. “Why does nobody tell me anything?”

“That’s not true! It’s…”

It’s just ME who won’t tell you anything.

Adrien just kept staring at her, pressing his lips into a thin line as his hands relaxed at his sides. He was waiting for her. Giving her a chance to come clean.

She cleared her throat, opened her mouth, and…

Nothing.

She couldn’t do this. Not now.

This wasn’t some little thing she could just blurt out—even if she had planned to tell him, she had to do it right. To make sure he was okay, that he could handle it, that she knew what to say.

But even Adrien’s patience wasn’t infinite.

“Fine then,” he snapped.

Before she could fumble another response, he brushed past her, knocking into her shoulder as he went. By the time she managed to turn around, he was wrenching on the bathroom door. It slid open with a slam.

The sound reverberated through, tugging her limbs into action. She raced after him, sliding to a stop just as he halted in front of his bathroom sink. Their eyes met briefly in the mirror, sending a chill through her before he yanked one of the drawers open.

The force of the action was almost enough to send the drawer careening back to where it had started. But it slowed to a stop while still halfway open—wide enough for her to catch two glints of silver sitting atop a towel inside.

“There they are. Perfectly safe.” His voice was unfamiliar. Cold. “Happy?”

Lips trembling, she shook her head. “Adrien…”

“Now will you tell me what’s on? Or was that another lie?”

“It’s not that simple,” she choked out.

He ran a distressed hand through his hair. “It is, though! Not everything has to be some big secret!”

“I kn-know, but—”

“Let me guess. You can’t tell me. And I bet I don’t get an explanation for that, either.”

She rubbed her thumb into her hand, hard enough that it was almost painful. Maybe if she found the right spot, it would force the truth right out of her.

Except nothing seemed able to slip past the lump in her throat. Or the sour taste on her tongue.

Maybe he’d at least see the apology swimming behind her gathering tears.

His eyes fell back to the drawer, and his shallow breaths chilled the air between them—until they faded into an even colder silence. Then his shoulders slumped. When he spoke again, there was no anger left in his voice.

There was only pain.

“I didn’t like wearing them, okay? I can’t explain it, I just…” His hands clenched at his sides. “I thought I’d get used to them. That it might be nice to have a reminder of my parents to carry with me. But… I don’t know. They just don’t feel like mine, and…they made it harder to move on. Harder to try and be happy—at least as much as I can.”

He looked back to her, tears welling in his eyes as well. “Can’t you understand that?”

She should be able to. All she’d ever wanted in this whole mess was for Adrien to be happy.

But no matter what she chose to do now, it felt like she’d ruined that.

“Please,” she tried again, desperation winning out. “If you could just put them back on, then…”

His expression hardened. “I think you should go.”

***

In class the next morning, Marinette could barely keep her eyes open. Yet with Adrien sitting two rows ahead of her, incessantly fiddling with the twin rings he’d returned to their rightful place on his finger, she couldn’t look away.

It should have brought some comfort—that he was wearing them again. But now all she could think of were worst case scenarios. What if he twisted the rings a little too hard? If they flew off his finger, right into someone’s bag? Or what if it happened during art class? If he lost a ring in a pot of paint and used the wrong chemicals to clean it?

Maybe that would be okay. It might take more than just a few nicks at the surface to poof him out of existence.

Or maybe that was all it would take.

What would happen if one ring were destroyed, and the other left intact?

What would happen if he lost them both, to two different fates? If two people issued opposite commands?

Marinette’s stomach lurched at the thought, and she fought back tears. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t so much as blink, for fear Adrien would disappear the instant she closed her eyes.

She had to tell him the truth.

It didn’t matter if he’d surely hate her for having hidden it so long. And it didn’t even matter, really, that it would upset him.

At least he’d be alive to feel those things.

When the bell rang, Marinette barely processed it. She only noticed the terrified jolt of her heart when Adrien began gathering his things—when he stood and began making way towards the door, making his way away from her. But the classroom was nearly empty by the time her own body remembered what to do. And by the time she made it to the door, she’d lost sight of him.

No.

She raced into the hallway, skidding to a stop in the middle as she searched frantically back and forth. A few kids snickered at her display, and another pair not-so-kindly asked her to move. She ignored them all, focused solely on locating a familiar head of blonde hair. Adrien couldn’t have gone far.

Eventually, she found him near the foot of the stairs, exchanging a fist bump with Nino as he passed in the opposite direction. It was a routine they’d developed in between Friday classes, one Marinette used to be a part of—gently teasing them as their handshake got more and more elaborate each time. But now her only role was shoving her way down the hallway like a maniac before she lost sight of Adrien again.

There were too many people between them. Too many students who thought the middle of the hallway was a great place to stop and chat. So focused on those obstacles, Marinette didn’t realize how close she’d come to Adrien until she crashed right into him.

He whirled around immediately, arms automatically moving to steady her—like nothing had changed between them. Like maybe her traitorous heart was right to insist they might still have a chance together. But then his brow furrowed, and she realized they’d stopped in the doorway to his next class—the only Friday class they didn’t share.

His hands dropped abruptly to his sides. “Marinette, hey!” He gave an awkward chuckle. “Do you, uh…need directions?”

A strangled noise was all she managed in response, and the strained smirk fell from his face.

“Marinette?” His fingers twitched at his sides, as if itching to reach for her. Then they stilled. “Is everything okay?”

Her answering smile was delayed; it took longer to appear on her face than it would take Adrien to snap out of existence. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise, the way the concern in his eyes only deepened.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, as tears filled her eyes. When she glanced back down, his rings were amorphous blurs. She couldn’t remember which hand held the ones she was looking for. An all-too familiar lump rose up her throat. “Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Because you can still… You can always talk to me.”

It was the softness of his voice that broke her. All that kindness she didn’t deserve. A sob ripped itself from her throat, and then she wasn’t sure who reached for who. She wasn’t certain of anything except that for the first time all day, she wasn’t terrified. Because Adrien’s arms were around her now. He was too solid to fade away, too real. Too good.

There was no way the Earth could keep spinning without him.

“Shhh,” he murmured, resting a cheek atop her head. “You’re okay.”

He slowly guided her into the hallway, away from the open doorway. Not once did he loosen his hold. She clung to his shirt the whole time, catching whiffs of his scent between gasping breaths. And she hoped that somehow, he’d understand her silent promise. The words she couldn’t speak aloud.

I’ve got you too. I’ll always be here.

Even once you don’t want me anymore.

Chapter Text

Adrien’s duvet was balled up on the floor, tossed aside after a pathetic attempt at burying his feelings in sleep. But something of himself must have remained tangled up in its threads—enough to muffle the rest of the world. To keep him cocooned from its pull, or maybe trapped. At least until another flip of his stomach pushed him back to the brink.

Sitting at the foot of his bed, he pushed his feet into the blanket and curled his fingers into the frigid sheets left behind. It was too late in the year to leave his bedroom window open.

To keep waiting. Hoping.

Yet he couldn’t find the resolve to stand up, cross his room, and pull the hinges closed. Instead he gripped the edge of his mattress even harder, squeezing his eyes shut as a wayward breeze snuck in.

Ladybug was out there. She’d been pacing the roof across the street for the better part of an hour, wringing her hands and shooting the occasional, desperate glance his way. As if waiting for him to invite her inside.

He wasn’t going to. Not this time. If Ladybug wanted to explain herself—if she wanted to apologize—then he wouldn’t try to stop her. But it was on her to make the next move.

Because I'm too much of a coward.

Try as he might to push that thought aside, it clung stubbornly to the edge of his mind. And it would have been so easy to hold on to frustration instead—Ladybug had given him every reason to to be upset with her.

But he couldn’t shake the fear he’d seen in her eyes.

He’d spent hours last night, tossing and turning, replaying her wide-eyed, desperate face in his mind. It haunted him. And eventually, it drove him right out of bed and back to the bathroom. Back to the rings, which he stared at until exhaustion finally overwhelmed the inexplicable revulsion he felt at the idea of slipping them back onto his finger.

Since then, he’d done his best not to look at the rings. But he couldn’t ignore how they felt. They seemed to tighten on his finger with each passing second, almost throbbing, like a fragment of his heart had been trapped beneath each band. And they were heavy—whether with the weight of his parents’ expectations or of Ladybug’s secrets, he couldn’t be sure.

Stupid, he tried to tell himself. They’re just rings.

But they were also a symbol of how much things had changed over the past few months. Of how they kept changing, refusing to let Adrien find solid ground before something else was knocked out from under him.

If he invited Ladybug inside, she might just become the next person he lost. And he wasn’t sure he could live with that.

Unease lurched beyond the the rings. It prickled along Adrien’s skin, up his arms and down his spine. His mouth felt too dry, his throat too tight. Before he’d made a conscious decision, his hand was already moving, ready to pry the rings off once again. To give himself a chance at breathing fresh air.

Then Ladybug’s feet thumped softly against his floor. Fuck.

His gaze flew immediately to where she’d landed; he couldn’t help it. But her eyes, instead of meeting his, went straight to his hands.

He saw her notice the rings; even in the evening shadows of his room, he saw the way her shoulders visibly relaxed. And he found that a spark of his anger had survived in him after all.

“Are you ready to talk?” he bit out.

Ladybug flinched, but she finally looked up at him. “No. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. But I guess… I don’t really have a choice.”

Adrien kept silent, watching as she took a few timid steps closer.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she said. “And I’m really sorry that it turned out that way. That it keeps turning out that way. I wish I was better at this, because you deserve better.” She froze, a beam of moonlight glancing off her hair, but not quite illuminating her watery smile. “You deserve the best.”

“I’d settle for the truth.”

“Right. Of course.” Ladybug stared at her hands, carefully lacing her fingers together then pulling them apart. “A-anyways, I guess I just wanted to say, before I start, that I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I hope you know that if you ever need me, I—” Her hands fell back to her sides, and she glanced shyly back at him. “I’ll always be there for you, Adrien.”

Her words took a moment to register; at first Adrien was only aware of a pressure in his chest, expanding quickly. Then it popped, like a water balloon, spilling ice-cold terror through his veins.

Because Ladybug’s words were, on the surface, ones he’d always wanted to hear. But why had she said them?

Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he blinked so hard in his effort to hold them back that it actually hurt. And just when he thought he’d won the fight, he was reminded of the last time he’d fought back tears—just a few hours earlier, with Marinette crying in his arms.

Was it awful, Adrien wondered, if holding her again had been the most precious moment of his day? Precious and fleeting—like cradling a hatching egg in his palms. She’d fled before he’d managed to work out what had been bothering her, and he hadn’t even been surprised.

It wasn’t like he’d wanted to see her upset. In fact, he’d have done anything in his power to ensure the opposite.

But it seemed like sometimes, being there for someone simply wasn’t enough.

Adrien bit down on his bottom lip right before it could wobble its way into a sob. Then a flash of movement caught his eye, and he looked up.

It seemed that while he’d been doing his best to hide his feelings, Ladybug had taken the opposite approach. She’d begun pacing in front of his bed, replaying the same sort of chaos he’d seen over on the rooftop. Except seeing it up close was so much more jarring—every wave of her hand made his heart jump halfway up his throat.

He wanted to scream. Just get it over with!

But before he could get anything out, she stopped abruptly, facing away from him. Her shoulders rose and fell in a long, heavy breath. Then she seemed to nod to herself, as if finishing up a silent argument, and turned to cross the rest of the distance between them.

She stopped right in front of him, hesitating for a moment before she knelt at his side. Her knees found the edge of his fallen blanket, and he found himself staring at the way the fabric creased around her. The way it bent as though to her will. And everything that had once been uncertain—either blurred, or muted, or both—suddenly sharpened to a point. It was too bright, too much, to take in all at once.

Especially when Ladybug took his hand.

“Look, Adrien… What I’m about to tell you, well. It doesn’t change anything important, okay? You’re still the same person you’ve always been—you are still a person. Unless, um… Well, if you don’t want to identify that way anymore, that’s up to you! Obviously, you can choose your own labels.”

What?

“I only meant that you’re still just as amazingly wonderful, and thoughtful, and smart, and kind, and… and… oh, funny! Obviously. I mean, your puns. Wow!” A maniacal grin pushed against her cheeks, and she retracted her hand from his in favour of slapping her palm a little too hard against his knee. “What a knee-slapper, am I right?”

Well. If he hadn’t already known things were dire, then Ladybug readily complimenting his puns would have been a dead giveaway. Just yesterday, he’d tried so hard to tease that admission out of her—mostly just as a way to make her laugh. Now, it left a sour taste in his mouth as she continued.

“So—so, you have all those qualities. Which is, um, great. Because you’re great. But that’s not really—I mean, the point is…” She made a face. “Hold on.”

Ladybug pulled out her yo-yo, eyes flicking back and forth across the screen. Then she released a breath, tension melting out of her face as she slid the weapon back onto her hip.

“Okay. So, as I was saying, no matter what sort of crazy—I mean, totally normal—things you might hear today, it’s just important to remember that, um…” Her brow creased suddenly. “Adrien, are you okay?”

Oh. Maybe he wasn’t doing as good a job as he’d thought he was at hiding his feelings.

“You wrote a speech,” he said flatly.

Ladybug cocked her head. “Of course I did. What was I supposed to do, trust myself to know what to say?” She snorted. “Believe me, it’s better this wa—”

“Am I that hard to talk to?”

“What? Adrien, no. You’re…” She trailed off, mouth flapping open and closed like a fish. And there it was again, etched all over her face—the fear. “This is just really, really important. I need to make sure I get it right, and so…”

Her eyes flicked briefly back to her yo-yo, then settled on him. There was an almost pained expression on her face as she studied him.

“I’m freaking you out, aren’t I?” she said. “God, I knew this would happen. I should have gone with the seventeenth draft. But Tikki said the modelling metaphor was in bad taste. Still, at the very least I should have practiced more. And I could have brought—”

“Ladybug,” Adrien interrupted. He slid a hand through his hair, tugging wildly at the ends. “Can you please just—look, I’m sorry. I know you probably put a lot of effort into this, and I—it’s nice that you want to do this right. Whatever that means. But please, just tell me.” He took a deep breath. “What happened yesterday?”

There was a long beat of silence. Then her face crumpled.

“You took off your rings,” she whispered.

“I know that. But why—” His voice cracked. He swallowed, then tried again. “Why did that scare you?”

“I-I really think this is better with the speech. If you’d just let me—”

“No.”

“Adrien—”

“I’m sick of this! Of people dancing around the truth, or walking on eggshells around me. It’s like nobody thinks I can handle anything. Or maybe I’m just not important enough for it. I don’t know! All I know is that I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way. I can’t—”

“They’re your Amoks!” Ladybug yelled, jumping up and waving her hands in front of his face. Then all of a sudden she froze, clapping her hands over her mouth.

“My… what?”

“Oh no,” she said. “Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no. I wasn’t supposed to say it like that. I’m so, so, so—”

“S-sorry,” Adrien choked out. “I think I misheard you. I thought that… It sounded like you said the rings are my Amoks, but…” He trailed off, noticing her blinking hard, refusing to meet his gaze. “Ladybug?”

“I’m sorry. But Adrien, it’s like I said before. This doesn’t change any—”

“But what—what do you mean, mine? Did my father…? Oh my God, he did, didn’t he?” I inherited a sentimonster. “I mean, I always wondered why he was there at the end, with Monarch. But I guess if he…”

If he made a sentimonster, Adrien had been about to say. Except that didn’t make sense. Adrien knew for a fact that Félix had the Peacock Miraculous. His cousin wasn’t exactly trying to hide it.

But what else could Ladybug possibly have meant?

Whatever the answer, Adrien really hoped she stopped looking at him like she’d accidentally killed his cat.

“Actually,” she said, “I’m pretty sure it was your mom.”

Adrien frowned. “What?”

“She’s the one who… who made…” Ladybug gestured vaguely towards him. “You know!”

He very much did not know.

“My mom’s dead,” he reminded her, somehow evoking even more pity from her features.

“I know. But… she was alive fifteen years ago.”

“Fifteen years ago? You’re saying, what? That my parents were just keeping a sentimonster around for my whole life? What on Earth would they have needed that for? And, I mean, the house is pretty big and all, but I think I would have noticed.” Especially now, if he supposedly possessed its Amoks.

Oh, God. Adrien didn’t want that kind of power over another living thing.

“You’re not understanding,” Ladybug said. She crouched back down and took his hands again, her eyes boring straight into his soul. “Adrien, they’re your Amoks.”

He still didn’t get it—not at first. She’d just said the same thing as what she’d started with. A different emphasis didn’t change that.

But there was something about the way she just kept looking at him.

Fifteen years ago.

“No,” Adrien said. “I’m not—I can’t be…”

Ladybug’s expression crumpled—just for a second, but long enough for the horror of his epiphany to sink in.

“Adrien,” she soothed, “it’s okay.”

“But you’re wrong! I’ve seen pictures of my mom from when she was pregnant with me. So I can’t be…”

Ladybug bit her lip. “Well, from what I understand, I think it was sort of, like, a magical IVF type situation.” She scrunched up her nose in thought. “I mean, Félix’s play wasn’t super clear on the specifics, but he might know more. You could probably ask him.”

“Félix knows?”

“Um, yeah. And Kagami. They’re sort of…well, not sort of. They are the same as you. Senti…sentipeople.”

Adrien glanced wildly around his room, half-expecting someone to pop out of nowhere with a camera, announcing this was all some huge joke. But nothing happened.

His existence was the joke. And nobody had wanted to share the punch line.

Stomach churning, Adrien stared down at the rings—at the Amoks. Ladybug had been adamant that this didn’t change anything. But if that were true, why hadn’t she just told him the truth, rather than treat it like some shameful secret.

If the rings had been uncomfortable before, now they practically burned. Like they were branding him with the truth. Now more than ever, he wanted to rip them off and chuck them into the corner of his room. He wanted to never see them again.

But what if somebody else got their hands on them?

What if somebody already has.

His parents had worn those rings. And all the times when Adrien twisted them around his own fingers had conjured images of his father doing the same. He hadn’t understood, before, why that made his stomach drop like he was falling off a cliff. But now…

How many times had Adrien obeyed his father even as his mind screamed at him not to? How many times had he felt pathetic for bowing so easily to his commands?

How many times had it felt almost painful?

“I don’t want this,” Adrien whispered. He didn’t realize he was shaking until Ladybug sat beside him on the bed and took his hand again. “I just want to be normal.”

“You are normal,” Ladybug said. “You’re still you.”

“But what good is that? If he… If my father…” Adrien shuddered. “He made me do things. He controlled me.”

Ladybug’s hand went slack in his. “H-he what?”

“Well, they’re Amoks, right? That’s what they’re for.” Adrien sucked in a shaky breath. “That’s what I’m for. To follow orders. I’m not even my own person.”

“Of course you are,” Ladybug said.

But Adrien pushed her away, suddenly feeling like the world was closing in on him. His breaths came too quickly. Panic clawed its way at his chest.

“I’m not,” he gasped, bending over to put his head in his hands. But then that felt too restricting, too, so he pushed himself tp his feet, tearing free from Ladybug’s reaching hands, and started pacing around in front of her, retracing the same steps she’d taken when the news had been heavy in her hands. “I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.”

Not human. Not real.

Just…not.

And maybe that was why Marinette had ended things with him. She might not have known he was a monster, but maybe she’d sensed something all the same.

She was so talented. So driven. And Adrien had never been meant to have his own goals and dreams—he still didn’t have any ambitions that were solely his own. He didn’t know what he wanted to do this weekend, let alone with the rest of his life.

He would only have held Marinette back.

“Adrien!” Ladybug suddenly blocked his path. “Look at me.”

He wanted to refuse. He wanted to make one damn decision on his own. But it was Ladybug—now laying a hand on his arm. And he couldn’t ignore that.

His gaze snapped to hers, though he could barely keep her in focus. He tried to say something, but acid stung the back of his throat. His mind was floating away. His fingers felt numb.

“Take a breath,” she said.

Adrien shook his head. He didn’t know how to do that.

Ladybug took him gently by the shoulders, her forehead pinching in concern. It was kind of cute, he thought idly—the top of her mask creasing like a heart. But he didn’t have long to stare before one of her hands slid to the back of his neck, carefully guiding his face down as she raised up on her tiptoes. Their foreheads pressed together, an unexpected warmth forcing some air into his lungs.

“It doesn’t matter, Adrien. How you were born, or made, or—or whatever you want to call it. It doesn’t matter.” Her thumb tickled the edge of his hairline. “Not to me.”

A whine tore free from his throat, and he was tempted again to pull away. But feeling her breath puff against his chin automatically had him trying to match that. And her gloved pinky had found a sensitive spot just beyond his ear—a spot he swore had become his tether to the entire world.

“You’ll always be real to me.”

If he’d had the breath to protest more, he probably would have. But suddenly he felt dizzy. And all he could really do was sort of sag against Ladybug, leaning more and more of his weight against her. Until he wasn’t sure his legs remembered how to stand for themselves.

She didn’t seem to mind. Her arms morphed automatically around him, one hand cradling his head, the other hugging his waist. And he realized, then, that she’d known the truth about him this whole time. She’d known and she hadn’t shied away.

He might be a boy who only knew how to follow, but at least following her had always been his own choice. And as he broke into sobs he knew he’d do it again, a million times, just to have this precious, fleeting moment in her arms.

Adrien wasn’t quite sure how they ended up in his bed—as a tangle of limbs, with Ladybug’s head resting on his chest. It seemed too good to be true. But he thought that maybe if he just stayed like that, without pausing the rhythm of his fingers teasing through the ends of her hair, she might not notice that his tears had ceased, replaced by a hollow pit in his chest.

He’d made a game once, on some patrol or other, of fiddling with her pigtails. Back when he’d been in love with her. But he’d never been able to feel them on his skin—to feel how silky and smooth they were. How oddly familiar they were in the way they twisted around his fingers. And he was so lost in his ministrations that he didn’t realize he’d begun fiddling with one of her ties—not until the knot fell away between his index finger and thumb, and he was left clutching a loose ribbon. One he’d had no business in unravelling.

He froze at that, the spell finally breaking. His gut coiled like the spring of a jack-in-a-box, ready to pop. But Ladybug only hummed softly, still tracing idle patterns on his chest.

The damage was done, though; Adrien couldn’t quite disconnect from the noise of the world. As he returned to shakily combing a finger through her hair, he couldn’t help but think of all the other loose ends he should be dealing with.

How had his parents even found the Peacock in the first place? Did it mean they’d known Mayura somehow? Or even Monarch?

That had to be connected to why his father had been there in the end; it couldn’t be a coincidence. And Adrien knew he should probably ask more questions, seek to figure things out.

But he was blinded with terror by the very thought.

Not now. Not tonight.

If he was hanging over the edge of a cliff, then Ladybug was holding the end of the rope. But even she wouldn’t be able to save him if it frayed too much. If it snapped. The best Adrien could do was try not to jostle it too much.

Ladybug was the one to break the silence—after he accidentally let his fingers trail a little further down than the ends of her hair, tracing the arc of her spine. It must have tickled or something, because she gave a little shiver. And Adrien froze, holding his breath, until her palm flattened against his chest and found his aching heart.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she murmured. “I thought that maybe if the truth would only hurt you, well, maybe I didn’t have to share it. And it seemed so impossible to explain. But then yesterday, with the rings…” She sighed. “I knew you needed to know—so you can keep yourself safe.”

He wasn’t so sure he felt safe. But he thought he might, eventually. If only he could keep Ladybug here with him, forever and a day.

She seemed to have other ideas. Without warning, she pushed herself up on one elbow, and panic seized him anew. But she merely studied him, her eyes impossibly soft, as she raised a shaking hand to his cheek.

“I need you to be safe.”

Adrien knew the feeling. It had sent him jumping off of buildings and leaping into the line of fire. And even now, it made him tighten an arm around her waist, trying to let her know, silently, that he was there. That he was okay.

Even if he wasn’t entirely sure he ever would be.

Something fluttered in his chest just then—the first sensation all night that wasn’t wholly unwelcome. The first realization he didn’t want to push aside.

He still loved her.

And not like a friend, or even like her superhero partner. It was all-consuming, an integral part of his each and every heartbeat. Like maybe he still had something to believe in.

What did that say about him? About his relationship with Marinette?

He still wanted to trust that what they’d shared was real. But for the moment, he wasn’t quite sure how to trust anything.

Even the weight of Ladybug’s head on his chest had grown a little too heavy to bear, so he pushed himself up, not realizing how sudden the movement was until he shrank back. And his heart seized up at that. He couldn’t figure out how to communicate that he still wanted—no, needed—her here. That he just needed a minute to process.

She sent a strained smile his way. “I-I understand if you want me to go. If you’d rather to be alone, or just…not with me. I can go get someone for you. One of your friends. Just let me know—”

He cut her off with a desperate grab for her wrist, halting her just before she managed to stand up from the bed. And even when she sank back down, concerned eyes fixed on him, he couldn’t make himself let go.

“Adrien? What is it?”

Not quite trusting his voice to answer, he simply stared at her, silently pleading for her to understand. She seemed to, a few seconds later, as she scooched her knees a little closer and reached for his other hand.

He let her pull him closer, gradually releasing his grip on her wrist once he found himself securely enveloped in her embrace. And only then, after a few failed attempt, did he manage to speak.

“Don’t go. Please. I don’t—” He broke off, fighting a surge of anxiety. “I don’t want to be alone.”

She inhaled sharply, then hugged him tighter. “You’re not. I’ve got you.”

At some point, long after time had ceased to make sense, he was distantly aware of her easing them both back to the mattress. Only this time she was the one who wove her fingers into way into his hair. And that was calming in a whole other way, eventually relaxing him enough that he started to drift off to sleep.

The last thing he remembered—or maybe imagined—before the night claimed him was the whisper of her lips against his temple.

Chapter Text

Ladybug spent most of the night watching Adrien sleep—which should have left her eyelids blinking heavily by the time dawn crept upon them. But after so many nights spent tossing and turning, waking up in a cold sweat and fearing the worst, this was somehow the most restful night she’d spent in a while.

Adrien finally knew the truth—or one of them, at least—and the world was still spinning. His chest still knew how to rise and fall in slow, even breaths, and if ever his slumber grew fitful, his body seemed to instinctively seek out hers. Which probably just meant he was after her warmth; that was the logical answer.

Yet she couldn’t help hoping it meant more.

Like maybe, despite everything, they could still find their way back to each other.

She knew that was foolish. That even if he still wanted her in his life once she learned about everything else, that didn’t mean he’d want what they’d once had. And besides, there was still the matter of her identity—the one secret she couldn’t share, even if she’d wanted to. But those things were the furthest thing from her mind when Adrien’s head turned towards her, his lips quirking up the slightest bit.

“Don’t wanna get up,” he mumbled.

Ladybug’s heart clenched. There she’d been, thinking of romance of all things, when she’d flipped Adrien’s life upside down not twelve hours prior. What was wrong with her?

“Adrien…” she whispered, her voice cracking halfway through. She closed her eyes, cleared her throat, and tried again. “I’m so—mmph!”

Fingers resting gently against her lips interrupted the apology she hadn’t quite planned, out anyways, and her eyes few open in time to see Adrien’s flutter shut.

“Shh…” he said. “Don’t ruin the dream.”

Ladybug tilted her head, biting back an uncertain smile when his fingers slipped down to her chin. “The dream?”

The remnants of his tired smile faded, and his next words were hoarse—chafed with a desperate sort of ache. “Of waking up next to you.”

His eyes opened, a smile inching against against his cheeks. But it flickered out before she could make sense of it, leaving her with only the unbearable weight of his gaze. He watched her like he’d pinned all his hopes on her response, and she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Before she could do anything stupid—like try to kiss his sadness away—there was a knock at the door. And before Ladybug’s panic had even fully registered, Nathalie’s voice called out.

“Adrien, it’s time to get up!”

Ladybug let out a squeak, then slapped a hand over her mouth as Adrien’s eyes went wide. He shot up in bed, frantically shoving the covers to the side. And while she wasn’t really certain he’d meant to push them towards her, it seemed a good idea as any to pull them up over her head. And hold her breath for good measure.

Knock, knock, knock. “Adrien?”

“I’m up! I’m up!” he called back. “Just, um… Don’t-come-in-I’m-changing!”

There was a long pause, during which Ladybug felt her cheeks heat up. Which was stupid—she knew he wasn’t actually changing. And she definitely shouldn’t have been imagining that, because again, this so wasn’t the time to—

Nathalie’s responding sigh—which was remarkable in its ability to pierce through a closed door—cut Ladybug’s spiral short.

“Breakfast in twenty minutes.” Nathalie’s words were followed by the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway.

Adrien let out a sigh of his own in her absence, and after a moment’s hesitation Ladybug pushed the blanket down a tiny bit, just enough for her eyes to peek out the top. The motion drew Adrien’s attention back to her; he froze when they locked eyes, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“D-don’t worry about it.”

Adrien nodded, mouth hanging open like he meant to say something else. But then he slammed it shut, eyes falling to the blanket. “I guess you have to go now.”

“Probably.” Ladybug sat up. “I mean, I should, but…”

She wasn’t ready to leave him. Not after the bomb she’d dropped last night. Not when they hadn’t even had a chance to really talk it over.

“It’s okay,” Adrien said—as if he’d read her mind. He didn’t sound very convincing, but he managed to muster up a brief smile. “The last thing I’d want is to make Ladybug late for class.”

She snorted. “Oh, believe me, I don’t need any help in that department.”

Another small smile flitted across his face, but it seemed to cost him too much energy trying to hold it there.

Ladybug reached for his hand. “Will you be okay?”

Adrien’s face fell, but before her heart could drop too far in tandem he bit his lip, glancing back shyly in her direction. “Will you visit tonight?”

Her heart squeezed in her chest. “If you want me to.”

“I do.”

Forcing a smile, Ladybug rose up on her knees and leaned forwards, letting her lips press softly against Adrien’s cheek. “Then of course I will.”

His breath hitched. “Then I’ll be just fine."

Adrien didn’t seem fine. He spent their morning class staring blankly at the board, then picked his way through lunch. When it came time for literature, where Marinette had to sit next to him to work on their project, she was actually glad to have a chance to talk to him for once.

But when she finally worked up the courage to ask if he was okay, he only forced a smile and mumbled some excuse about not sleeping well—which she wouldn’t have bought even if she hadn’t spent the night by his side. Then the bell rang before she could push the topic any further.

After school, she barreled through the door to the bakery, readily armed with a lie about sleeping over at Alya’s—only to learn her parents had been slammed with an unexpected catering order for the weekend. And normally that was the sort of thing Marinette didn’t mind helping with, but today she couldn’t help the frustration boiling in her veins.

After her third time obliterating the innocent face of a cat-shaped cookie in a burst of angrily-squeezed icing, even her maman noticed.

“Is everything alright, sweetie? I haven’t seen you massacre so many sweets in a while.”

Marinette bit back a retort—it wasn’t her maman’s fault she was in such a pissy mood—but even so a paralyzing anger ballooned inside her. She was still clenching her teeth when a gentle hand rested on her shoulder.

The breath rushed out of her lungs in one fell swoop. “Sorry, maman.”

“It’s okay. Do you want want to talk about it?”

“No.” She sighed. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Take your time, then.”

Her maman bumped her hip softly into Marinette’s side as she let her hand fall away, and somehow that had the ability of magically melting the rest of her tension away. If only Marinette had that ability—then maybe the thought of being there for Adrien wouldn’t feel so overwhelming.

Maybe she wouldn’t feel like she was always doing something wrong.

She watched as her maman picked up another piping bag, carefully tracing whiskers on one of the cookies Marinette hadn’t gotten to yet. When she finished, she simply moved onto the next one, making everything seem so simple.

“It’s about Adrien,” Marinette admitted.

Her maman gave a small nod, not looking up from her task.

“He was really… hurting over something at school today. And it’s… I don’t really know to help him.

“Well…” A sympathetic smile swung her way. “He loves you, Marinette. That’s going to take some time to get over.”

Marinette shook her head. “It’s not that. This is something else.”

With a curious glance, her maman set the piping bag back down, then turned and tucked a strand of hair behind Marinette’s ear.

“You still love him, too,” she observed.

“Obviously,” Marinette snapped, seized by an new rush of frustration. But when she looked back at her mom’s even expression, the feeling crumbled like icing powder. “I just feel like I ruined everything. And I can’t take any of it back.”

Her maman hummed thoughtfully. “I doubt you’ve ruined anything. Isn’t Adrien coming over to work on that project of yours soon?”

“Tomorrow, yeah. And… I know. But he sort of has to do that.”

“Maybe. But you could have chosen to stay after school one day. Or at least gone to work at the library.”

“Well, he said he misses papa’s chouquettes, so…”

“Hm…” A playful smile crossed her maman’s face. “Yes, I’m sure it’s the chouquettes he misses.”

“Maman!” Marinette sputtered a laugh. “This is serious!”

“I know, dear. But sometimes when things are tough, it’s even more important to find something to laugh about.”

She watched her maman’s gaze drift out towards the front of the cafe, to where her papa sung a low tune while assembling a tray of macarons. Her maman smiled, successfully pushing aside the remnants of her irritation.

But instead of making her think of Adrien, the moment reminded her oddly of Chat Noir. Of his silly jokes and never-ending smile. Of how he, like her parents, had always known the secret way to make her feel okay.

Marinette wanted to be that person for Adrien.

And as her attention drifted out the window, to where a hints of orange and pink had crept into the darkening sky, she thought she might have an idea for where to start.

“Maman… is it okay if I head over to Alya’s now? I promise I’ll help out on the next big order, but—”

“Go ahead, dear.” Her lips twitched. “I’m sure Alya misses her chouquettes, too.”

“Maman!”

Chapter Text

Ladybug swung through Adrien’s window. “I have an idea!”

The idea in question was half-baked at best, but her excitement was in full swing—clearly, or she wouldn’t have nearly crashed into the foosball table upon landing.

Eh, who was she kidding? That was just a normal day.

Less normal was the way Adrien jumped straight out of his blanket when she whirled around to face the couch. And at that point she realized she’d skipped a few steps in Operation Cheer Up Adrien: Senti Edition.

Namely the cheering him up part.

She lowered her arms—which had been raised somewhat menacingly over her head—and smiled sheepishly. “Um, I mean… if it’s okay with you?”

Adrien blinked. “If…what’s okay with me?”

“Well…”

Ladybug looked him up and down, taking in the way his shoulders hunched forwards as he rewrapped the blanket around his pyjamas. He barely seemed able to hold himself upright, and soon gave up the effort in favour of slouching against the side of the couch.

Her heart plummeted. “Never mind. It was stupid.”

Somehow, Adrien looked even sadder. “I doubt that.”

“It was, though.” She crossed her arms and looked away. “I just thought—well, it doesn’t matter! Because we should do whatever you want to do.”

There was a long pause, broken by Adrien clearing his throat. “What if I want to know what you had in mind?”

Cautiously, she glanced back up to see him nod to the seat in front of her, clearly gesturing for her to join him. So she took a deep breath, and forced herself to walk at a reasonable pace towards the sofa, where she sat down facing him.

Adrien watched through half-lidded eyes as she debated what to say. It shouldn’t be so hard to figure out—she should just ask how he was doing. If he was okay. Most people, those who weren’t a walking disaster, would have automatically started there.

But she knew he wasn’t okay, and it felt cruel to make him put that into words.

Releasing a well-chewed lip from between her teeth, the tiny sigh she let slip overwhelmed the uncertain silence between them. “I thought…maybe you might like to watch the sunset?”

Adrien’s eyes widened. Obviously, that wasn’t the response he’d been expecting.

Crap.

“I-I mean, it’s just something I’d do with Chat Noir sometimes,” Ladybug said. “Back when…well, that’s not important! And we don’t have to! But it…well, it used to cheer me up, when I needed it. Although, to be fair, it might have been more the company than the sunset. But still! You and I always hang out here, so I figured…it might be nice to go somewhere else for once—if you want to! And as long as you don’t, like, hate sunsets! Because, I don’t want to assume you like them. Even if most people do like them, well, you’re not like most people, you know? So—ohmygod, wait! I didn’t mean—I’m sure it’s not a sentiperson thing to hate sunsets! Although, I guess I wouldn’t put it past Félix. But I just meant, like, sunsets…so cliche, am I right? Downright pedestrian. And you’re so…” She gestured vaguely. “You know? You’re just so cool. And I guess sunsets are cool, too, since it’s literally less warm when the sun goes down. Except the sun’s really staying in the same place, so that’s a weird expression, isn’t it? And—”

“Ladybug?”

“Y-yeah?”

The corners of Adrien’s lips twitched. “I like sunsets.”

***

Ladybug emerged from Adrien’s closet holding the puffy, yellow, plaid monstrosity of a coat Adrien had tried on weeks ago, fighting to keep her face neutral as she returned to the couch. The garment stuck out like a hazard sign, but woven into the fabric were the echoes of Adrien’s laughter from that day.

If the sight of it made him smile, then that was all that mattered.

“Here,” she said, trying for nonchalance as she passed it over. “Don’t want you to get cold.”

A tiny smile appeared on Adrien’s face—not enough to fully illuminate his features, but it was a start.

"You hate this coat," he said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He raised an eyebrow, and a giggle snuck past her poker face.

“Fine. I might not have been its biggest fan, but…I still think you deserve the chance to wear it outside. If—”

She bit back another if you want to. Because at this rate, she’d start tacking that onto every sentence if she didn’t snap herself out of it. And she hoped that Adrien knew her well enough as Ladybug now to realize he always had a choice.

“—that’s all, actually!”

Adrien’s brow furrowed for a moment, but when she smiled back at him the wrinkles fell away. He stared at the coat in his hands, rubbing a reverent finger along the fur-lined hood. “It is pretty puffy.”

“Uh…yeah.” Under other circumstances, she might have teased him for stating the obvious.

“Probably not the best-suited for travelling through the city on the Ladybug express…”

Ladybug cocked her head, not quite following his logic.

“Guess that just means I’ll have to hold on tight.”

Heat rushed to her face, but the sudden sparkle in his eye drew out a playful retort. “Are you saying you think I’ll drop you?”

His amusement faded as quickly as it had come. “No,” he said softly. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Adrien saved her from having to find a way to answer—because really, how could he just say those things?!—by choosing that moment to finally unpeel himself from the blanket and rise slowly to his feet. He fumbled a few times with the coat’s zipper as Ladybug’s heart fumbled around in her chest, but by the time he pulled his arms through the sleeves she’d gotten a grip on herself. Mostly.

If only because it would have been really embarrassing to wind up dropping him after all that.

***

They touched down on a platform midway up the Eiffel tower. Ladybug set Adrien down beside her, watching as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and took a few steps forwards, staring out at the city. She wondered if he felt the same way she did—like the wisps of sunlight streaking through the sky were terribly out of reach.

She couldn’t shake the feeling she was running out of time.

What was she doing, trying to cheer him up when she hadn’t even told him the whole truth? Last night, she’d expected him to ask more questions. Because he had to have wondered how his parents had gotten their hands on the Peacock Miraculous, and given how insistent he’d been on hearing the truth, it didn’t make sense that he’d just stop now.

Ladybug didn’t have a plan for this—for this eerie reality after she’d pulled a secret from her crumbling tower, but the rest remained suspended, somehow impervious to gravity’s force.

Ignorant to her inner turmoil, Adrien wandered a little further—far closer to the edge than made her comfortable. She was about to call out to him when he stopped, taking a seat right on the edge of the platform, letting his feet hang off the side. He leaned back on his palms, twisting around to aim a half-hearted smile in her direction.

She couldn’t help but think he was putting a little too much trust in her to not let him fall. But she forced herself to return his smile, then joined him on the edge of the platform, letting her feet hang off the air beside his socks.

They watched in silence as darkness swallowed the remnants of the day. As swaths of illuminated sky waned to pinpricks of city lights. And all the while, Ladybug’s guilt only grew.

Couldn’t she think of anything to say?

Just as she was about to call it quits—and maybe try to figure out a non-weird way to message Chat Noir for advice on cheering up a friend—a plane passed by, its lights blinking through the darkness.

If only Ladybug were young enough to believe it was a shooting star. That she could make a wish, and it would come true. I just want Adrien to be happy.

But she knew all too well that in the real world, wishes had consequences.

Fighting back a lump in her throat, she barely noticed Adrien shifting beside her—not until his head dropped onto her shoulder. The gentle weight of it sucked the air from her lungs. She didn’t feel worthy of his trust. But it also grounded her in a weird way, dragging her out of her head and back to the present. And after a moment’s hesitation, she snuck an arm around his waist.

Just to make sure he doesn’t fall, she told herself. As if it didn’t make her heart beat faster when he sighed and snuggled in closer.

It was Adrien who finally broke the silence. “I missed you today.”

She hugged him tighter. “I missed you too.”

True, she’d been with him most of the day. But not like this.

Adrien let out a shaky breath. “I think I miss you most days, lately. But today, especially, I just felt like…like a fraud, or something. Like I don’t fit in with everyone else.”

“Adrien…”

“And I guess the worst part is, some part of me has always felt like that. But I used to be able to brush it off. Like, obviously I don’t get every inside joke or meme, because I spent so many years not getting to be around other kids my age. And because even after I started school, my father rarely let me hang out with my friends anyways. But it never really mattered before, because my friends never made feel bad about any of it. But now…what if I just wasn’t made to fit in? What if I’m just fooling myself? Or fooling everyone?”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Ladybug said.

Adrien hummed softly—almost like a chuckle. “I know. That’s why I missed you.”

After a moment’s deliberation, Ladybug let her head fall onto his. “Do you really think your friends would feel any differently if they knew the truth?”

“Maybe not…”

“Definitely not. And, you know…” Ladybug took a deep breath. “It’s your secret to tell. So you can tell whoever you want. Or not tell anyone, if that’s what you decide—you don’t owe it to anyone. But…I kind of think you should.”

Adrien tensed.

“Not everyone,” Ladybug clarified. “But I think you should at least tell the people who are most important to you. The people you trust. I think…you’ll feel better when you do.”

Part of her wished he wouldn’t tell a single soul. The less people who knew, the less danger he’d be in—because the what if of someone getting their hands on his Amoks would never entirely go away.

But she didn’t want him to live a life suffocated by secrets.

“I’ll think about it,” Adrien said. Then, to Ladybug’s dismay, he pulled away from her, sitting up straight. “But if it’s okay…I think I’d rather not talk about that right now. Or about any of the senti stuff.”

“Y-yeah, of course it’s okay!”

If only she could think of anything else to say.

It wasn’t long, though, before she noticed Adrien watching her. She ducked her head shyly. “What, is there something on my face?”

Adrien coughed. “N-no, I just… Sorry.”

Ladybug glanced back at him. “For what?”

“Um… I just…” His eyes locked with hers. “I was thinking about playing with your hair.”

He looked away as soon as he said it, hunching his shoulders as he stared out at the city. And Ladybug felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

“You can if you want to,” she said, and Adrien immediately perked up.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiled shyly. “It would be nice.”

Adrien hesitated for a moment, as if expecting her to change her mind. So she reached up and tugged one of her ribbons loose, watching his eyes widen as her hair spilled over her shoulder.

He crawled over to kneel behind her, undoing the other ribbon and gently combing his fingers through the strands. She felt him carefully divide it into sections, and soon after the felt a series of gentle tugs as he began braiding them together. The process stopped and restarted several times before he finally asked for one of her ribbons, and her cheeks were sore from smiling when she handed it back to him.

“What do you think?” he asked once he’d secured the ribbon in place. He leaned closer as he draped it over her shoulder.

With a giggle, she pulled out her yo-yo, opening up the camera and flipping it to selfie-mode. The lighting didn’t give her the best view, but she could make out a few flaws—the bump on the top of her head, the way he’d missed a few strands, and how the whole thing was a little crooked. But that was nothing next to Adrien’s beaming face as he leaned over her shoulder.

“I love it,” she said. “Let’s take a picture.”

He leaned in even closer as she shifted the yo-yo to get a better angle, making sure they were both in the frame. She felt his hand behind her head before the bunny ears he’d given her popped into view, but she pretended not to notice—she pretended she didn’t know why his breath puffed warmly against her cheek.

She pressed on the button to capture the photo, hoping she hadn’t missed his silent laughter.

***

Despite Adrien’s earlier quips about holding on tight, his grip seemed to slacken as she swung back towards his home—like he was falling asleep. Luckily they’d almost made it, so she decided against startling him awake, simply tightening her own grip as she swung through the last few streets.

He latched on tighter once she landed in his room—which probably meant he was awake enough for her to set him down. But if he wasn’t letting go…well, she might as well sneak in a few more seconds of snuggles.

She carried him to the foot of the bed, debating the best way to set him down. But the second she tried he only clung to her harder.

“‘m not tired yet.”

“Adrien,” she laughed. “Come on.”

He shook his head. “I’m not ready for you to go.”

Oh.

“Well…I could stay again.”

“You sure?” he slurred. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“Maybe I like being bothered by you.”

He hummed in amusement—or maybe just exhaustion—then relaxed his grip around her shoulders and let his legs slide down her sides until he was standing in front of her. Then he slumped down on the bed, tugging on the zipper of his coat.

It got stuck halfway down, and Adrien let out an adorable pout, letting his hands fall down to his lap instead of trying again. So Ladybug bit back a laugh and knelt beside him on the bed, easing the zipper the rest of the way down and helping him out of the sleeves.

“Thank you,” Adrien said, once the jacket lay on the bed behind him.

“No problem.”

He turned to her, a sudden alertness in his eyes. “No, I mean…thank you for everything. For tonight, for the last few weeks…for being here. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

A wave of guilt washed through her. “It was nothing.”

“No. It was everything.”

Ladybug was distinctly aware of her heartbeat. She wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but suddenly their hands were tangled together on the bed, and Adrien was leaning in, his lips much closer than the’d been a few seconds ago. Much closer than they should be. Until there was no distance separating them at all.

A jolt of fear shot through her when their lips touched—what if Adrien noticed how familiar kissing her felt? But as he sank eagerly into the kiss, her anxieties dissipated. His lips were just as soft as she remembered, as was the hand that slipped behind her head, pulling her in closer and drawing a tiny gasp from her throat.

It ended too soon. Adrien dipped his head as he pulled away, glancing up at her through his lashes as a dopey smile snuck onto his face.

“Was that okay?” he asked.

No, she should have said. We can’t do this.

Instead, she kissed him again.

Chapter Text

“Five more minutes,” Ladybug grumbled, face scrunching up in displeasure at whoever was trying to shake her awake. They were pretty warm, though. So she decided to forgive them—at least enough to curl into their side, sighing as a soft chuckle tickled her forehead.

Was she still dreaming?

“Come on…” said her cuddly alarm clock. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Oh.

Ladybug’s eyes flew open, and she had to bite back a yelp of alarm when she realized how close Adrien’s face was to hers. Wow, it was early in the morning for her heart to be racing like that.

“Good morning,” he whispered, rolling onto his side and tucking a hand under his cheek. The movement brought them even closer together, their foreheads nearly touching.

With some difficulty, Ladybug unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “G’morning…”

Adrien’s smile twitched at the corners, then lazily faded away. But the warmth in his eyes didn’t falter as he reached towards her, gently tracing the edge of her mask.

It should have made her self-conscious, the amount of attention he gave her. The intensity of it. But the longer they lay there, their gazes tied together by some undeniable force, the more sure of herself she felt.

He brushed his nose against hers. “How’d you sleep?”

“Mhm,” she answered vaguely. Only when Adrien chuckled did she realize that wasn’t really an answer. “I-I mean, good! How about you?”

His fingers, still caressing her cheek, froze. “I, um…well, I liked waking up next to you.”

That wasn’t an answer either, and her heart sank when his gaze flitted away. She took his hand, pulling it down to kiss his fingertips. His eyelids squeezed shut, and his shoulders rose and fell through a long, heavy breath.

But before she could figure what to say, his eyes flew back open and latched back onto hers, quickly softening into another smile. It was almost enough to make her wonder if she’d imagined the whole thing.

“I thought about waking you up with a kiss,” he said. “But then I figured maybe that’s the sort of thing I should ask about. So—”

Ladybug cut him off by crashing her lips to his. He let out a tiny squawk of surprise before kissing her back, easily melding to her urgency—she needed this kiss to convey what she hadn’t managed with her words.

That she loved him. That she was here for him.

That what kept him up at night wasn’t something he’d ever have to handle alone.

When she pulled away, Adrien seemed dazed.

“Consider that my blanket permission,” she told him. “You’re free to kiss me awake whenever you please.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“And sensible, I figure. In my line of work, you never know if I’ll need true love’s kiss to break some curse or other.”

Caught up in the moment—and possibly still a little drunk on sleepy kisses—Ladybug hadn’t put much thought into her words. Only when Adrien’s eyes went wide did she realize her mistake.

There was no reason to believe she’d be cursed when there weren’t supposed to be any Akumas on the loose—when the Butterfly Miraculous was meant to be safe and sound.

But apparently he was caught up on a different detail. “True love’s kiss?”

Ladybug choked on air. “Whaaat? I didn’t—I mean, ha! What are you talking about?”

“You said—”

“It was a figure of speech!”

Adrien just kept staring at her, his expression unreadable. He seemed on the verge of saying something when his phone started blaring.

Ladybug had never been more relieved to hear an alarm go off. Although, as Adrien scrambled out of bed in a rush to grab it off his desk, she did wonder why he’d set it to go off on a Saturday. Only when the chimes ceased did realization dawn on her. Crap.

“Sorry about that,” Adrien said, setting the phone back down. “I, uh…kind of have to start getting ready, actually. I’m supposed to go to…a friend’s place. To work on a project.”

“Ha! No worries, I’ve got to get going, too.” Because it was her house he’d be visiting.

“Okay…”

In her haste to crawl out of his bed—apparently she’d become hopelessly tangled in his bedspread—she couldn’t quite interpret Adrien’s tone. But when she finally extracted herself, falling onto the floor with an indignant squeak, he still stood in the same spot beside his desk, a hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Are you alright?” Ladybug asked, rising to her feet.

“Yeah, I’m—it’s Marinette.” For a terrifying moment, she thought he’d somehow discovered her identity. Then he continued, “She’s the one I’m doing the project with. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you at first.”

With half of her brain stuck panicking—would she have enough time to tidy up her room?!—it took an embarrassingly long time to figure out why he’d feel weird about that. And then she had to keep herself from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, that’s fine. You don’t have to tell me.” I’ll know anyways.

“I know,” Adrien said, “but I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t telling you on purpose. I mean, she is my ex, and you’re…well, we haven’t talked about that yet, obviously. But still, you’re…”

“The girl who just had her tongue down your throat?”

“N-no,” Adrien said. “Or, yes, but what I meant to say is…you’re important to me.”

Her breath caught. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to say anything back.”

“But I do. I mean, I want to. I—you mean so much to me.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

Heart squeezing in her chest, Ladybug nodded. If only she could tell him just how much. But that would give too much away, and besides…

“I kinda have to go now, though…”

“Right. Of course! I’ll see you…well, whenever.”

Ladybug nodded enthusiastically. “Soon!”

“Yeah…” He smiled. “Soon would be nice.”

Heart somersaulting in her chest, Ladybug somehow managed to cross the room and climb onto his window sill. She was about to launch herself into the sky when Adrien shouted out to her.

“Hey, Ladybug?”

“Yeah?”

His lips twitched. “Let me know if you need to break any curses.“

She almost fell straight out of his window.

When Adrien showed up at Marinette’s door, she thought she did a remarkable job of acting Super Normal™. To any observer, she was but a mature and considerate ex-girlfriend, who was a hundred percent ready to focus solely on their literature project. She wasn’t at all thinking about how she’d just been kissing him senseless. Or how she’d fallen asleep in his bed—in his arms—for the second night in a row.

If she had been thinking of those things, there was no way she’d have managed to lead him up the steps to her room while only tripping two—damn it! three—times. And she wouldn’t have been so cool, suave, and completely able to speak in full sentences when his hand found her waist to steady her.

“You okay?” he asked.

With a tight smile, Marinette nodded. Which was functionally a complete, one-word sentence—if she did say so herself. Although she did realize a few seconds later, as she pushed open the hatch to her room, that she’d forgotten to turn around and properly deliver it to his face. Oh well.

Everything was going smoothly until they sat down at her desk, at which point she realized she’d forgotten to turn her computer on. Which meant the very casual transition from courteous greetings to working on their project she’d rehearsed was rendered useless, and she had nothing to do but grin awkwardly in Adrien’s direction while they waited for it to boot up.

She drummed her fingers furiously against the desk. Ugh, why was this taking so long? Any longer and she’d be forced to make small talk. And she wasn’t going to be able to look Adrien in the eye without remembering the softness of his gaze first thing in the morning.

“So, any plans for the weekend?” he asked.

“Wow! What a question!” I guess that depends on you, hot stuff. Marinette coughed, her cheeks on fire. “Uh…nope! No, not at all. Just gonna be…staring at the ceiling, mostly.”

Adrien frowned. “Is everything all right?”

“Whaaaa?” She played back her answer in her mind. Hm. Maybe that had sounded a tad depressing. “Of course! Of course! It’s just…a new kind of meditation I’m trying! Totally normal.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Adrien shifted slightly—probably away from her weird ass cringe—and Marinette shot a pleading glance out the window, begging the cloudless sky to send a bolt of lightning down to zap her out of this painful existence. When no help from the elements came, she sighed.

“How about you?”

“I’m…not sure yet.” He smiled, eyes fixed on his lap. “But I hope so.”

Marinette bit her lip to hold back a squeal of excitement, practically vibrating in her seat. Damn it, how was she meant to keep her cool for the next few hours?

The universe, as it turned out, had a plan for bringing her back down to Earth. Her computer finished loading, and she realized with horror that she hadn’t gotten around to updating her screensaver since the break up. It was still a collage of some of her favourite dates with Adrien—pictures of both of them smiling, making funny faces, or looking longingly into each other’s eyes.

Oh no.

She glanced nervously at Adrien, an apology dancing on her tongue. But he only smiled at the screen.

“I always loved that picture of you,” he said, pointing at one of the corners.

Marinette stared at him, struggling to interpret his words. They seemed innocuous enough, and he sounded sincere—not that she’d expect him to lie. But…should it be so easy for him to compliment her like that after everything she’d put him through?

His only discomfort seemed to come when he realized she was watching him. He straightened abruptly in his seat, an awkward grimace twisting his cheeks. “Sorry. Is it still okay for me to say that?”

“Of course! I mean, heh, I’m the one who didn’t change the screensaver.”

With a tight smile, Adrien set his phone down on the desk and tapped the screen to reveal his wallpaper—a picture of the two of them cuddled up on her chaise. “It’s okay. I haven’t changed mine either.”

Marinette’s stared at the photo—at their smiles—wondering how the memory already felt so far out of reach. How long would it take for Adrien to change the picture? To forget all about it?

And how could she feel so bitter about that when she was the one helping him move on?

She jumped when Adrien cleared his throat. “Should we start working?”

“Uh, yeah! Totally!”

With shaky hands, she typed in her passcode. But from the corner of her eye, she saw the moment when Adrien’s phone went dark.

She struggled not to cry.

“What if we switch the order of those slides?” Adrien asked, pointing vaguely at the screen.

Marinette frowned, moving her mouse to hover between two of the thumbnails. “These ones?”

“No, no. I meant…”

In lieu of finishing his sentence, Adrien leaned closer—which was something he’d done a lot of in the past couple hours. He didn’t seem to have any qualms about crossing into his ex-girlfriend’s personal space, nor did he seem to feel an overwhelming urge to flinch when their fingers grazed as he took the possession of the mouse.

It was almost like her presence had no effect on him at all.

On some level, Marinette knew she should feel relieved. After weeks of him barely being able to look her in the eye at school, after countless conversations he could barely get through without tearing up, of course she ought to be glad that they could finally have a normal hangout when she wasn’t suited up.

But it all felt so sudden. Like, now that he was kissing some other girl, suddenly their relationship had meant nothing?!

(Sure, she was the other girl. But he didn’t know that!)

“Like this,” Adrien said.

Marinette didn’t bother looking up to see which slides he’d rearranged. “That’s fine. Does that mean we’re done?”

“Oh, uh… I guess so.”

He slumped back in his seat, and an awkward silence fell between them. When she chanced a glance at him, he was staring at his lap, fiddling aggressively with his thumbs.

“Is it weird that I’m kind of sad the project’s done?” he asked. “I just… I really enjoyed spending time with you again.”

Her gut clenched with guilt. Ugh, she was such an asshole! Of course he was simply happy to be spending time with her.

“That’s not weird,” she said. “And… you don’t have to leave yet, if you don’t want. I mean, my parents would never forgive me if I let you go home hungry.”

“Really? You don’t mind?”

She shook her head. “You’re always welcome.”

The smile he sent in return wasn’t fair. How could he be so irresistible? And her poor heart didn’t even get a break once they’d made their way downstairs. Watching Adrien interact with her parents was something she hadn’t realized she’d missed—even if her maman did send Marinette a deviously teasing look when her papa piled chouquettes onto Adrien’s plate. It was all worth it for the smile that remained plastered on his face long after they’d returned upstairs.

They settled in front of the TV, and Marinette clicked through a few channels before a rerun of Alternative Truth—the episode Mme. Mendeliev had participated in—caught her attention. It made her giggle as she recalled the time Kim had almost set his chemistry book on fire during one of their labs in collège, then outright cackle when Adrien decided to try impersonating the contestants a few minutes later.

It was somehow perfect. Who would have thought that Adrien with half a macaron held between his teeth to mimic M. Banane’s permagrin was the ideal way to ease her tension? She didn’t even notice how close they’d gotten when she tried to copy him—a disastrous attempt that almost made her choke on her macaron. And even then she couldn’t stop laughing.

At least, not until Adrien reached out automatically to wipe the crumbs from her face.

They both seemed to freeze at the same time, with Adrien’s hand still curled against her cheek. Her gaze fell down to his lips, which were parted in surprise, and she leaned in without thinking. Her eyes were half-closed when he sprang back suddenly.

“I-I should go. Nathalie…” He stood from the couch, hands raised like he was trying to fend off a wild animal.

Or his incorrigible ex-girlfriend, who was a split-second away from kissing him senseless.

“She’ll be wondering where I am,” Adrien finished lamely. They both knew it was just an excuse.

Marinette glanced away, blinking hard. “Oh. Yeah, of course…”

“Yeah, so, um… Stay peachy?”

She nodded weakly, knowing she couldn’t look back at him without bursting into tears. Why do I keep ruining everything?

Adrien fled the apartment without another word, and the door clicked shut behind him with an impossible gentleness—like he was afraid closing it with any force would destroy the shaky foundation of their tentative friendship.

But he might as well have slammed it. Marinette could already feel everything falling apart.

Chapter Text

That night, only darkness greeted Ladybug from inside Adrien's room. She squinted through his window, desperate to catch any sign of movement. But all she saw was her own reflection, its image slightly distorted; perhaps the ever-growing dread in the pit of her stomach had grown massive enough for its gravity to disrupt the light's natural path.

When was the last time Adrien hadn't left his window open?

And what did it mean?

In her heart of hearts, Ladybug already knew the answer. Like any game of Jenga, she and Adrien had always been destined to fall.

But she wasn’t ready to lose him again. Not when she'd so recently rekindled that familiar warmth in his eyes. Not when she'd finally gotten another chance to feel his lips brush against hers—just one kiss amidst a flurry, sweet with the knowledge it wouldn't be the last.

Not when she could remember how tightly he'd clung to her afterwards, how even in sleep he'd seemed fearful to let her go.

But she had to, right? Otherwise, she’d only keep hurting him.

As the minutes ticked by, her indecision sped up like the wind. Her thoughts spiralled like a fallen leaf. And her hopes darkened like the evening sky, heavy with clouds on the verge of weeping.

Soon she couldn't take it anymore—the not knowing where Adrien was or if he was okay. At least if she went home, she'd have her phone on hand. As Marinette, she could apologize again for the afternoon, and maybe plant another lie amongst the tangled jungle she'd sown.

It didn't mean anything. And even if it did, exes are totally allowed to kiss almost-kiss. It's weird if they don't, actually. So there! Wishing you guilt-free dreams of kissing someone who's totally not your ex—not even secretly! Teehee!

Ugh. It was a wonder that Adrien had never broken up with her when he'd had the chance.

She was in the midst of composing another woefully insufficient mental text message when the fairly lights on her balcony came into view. They blinked unsteadily—the bulbs were no doubt suffering from all the times she’d forgotten to turn them off. And suddenly she was hit with a memory; a warmer night, a rosier truth. Lying in Adrien’s arms as the moon traded places with the sun.

Nose tickling her cheek, he’d pointed out how the lights were starting to die. But she’d paid no attention to the warning. All she’d known was the beauty of rainbow fractals blurring together as she drifted off.

As Ladybug slowed to a stop now, a few rooftops away, the lights began to blur again. But this time it was from the tears she fought to keep at bay.

She didn’t want to go home. Which was ridiculous, given how she’d rushed here. How every bone in her body ached to know Adrien was okay.

But that was just it; Adrien wouldn’t really be there. And after the way he’d run out on her earlier, after all the apologies he’d ignored since, she really had no reason to expect he’d even answer if she tried to reach out again.

There was something about watching the lights flicker. About seeing one more sign that things had run their course.

She didn’t want to be alone, waiting for the last bulb to fail.

When the wind changed directions, shifting her attention to a familiar figure on the rooftop across from her balcony, she wondered if it was the universe’s way of making things up to her. Chat Noir always had a way of putting things into perspective—even if she couldn’t really tell him what was going on.

But when she landed on the roof beside him, she wasn’t met with the smile she expected. Instead he startled, practically jumping right out of suit. He took a step backwards and almost tripped right over his tail.

His display was so over the top that she almost thought he’d planned it. He must have heard her coming from a ways away; he must have a joke on the tip of his tongue.

Then she registered his appearance—how his eyes were wide with alarm and his ears pressed flat against his head. How his whole body looked ready to curl in on itself.

Automatically, she reached out to him. But he flinched away from her touch; she could only watch, silently, as her fingers fell through empty air.

In a way, it hurt worse than Adrien’s empty room—at least she’d known the reason for that.

Slowly, she raised her gaze again, seeking answers. But Chat’s bowed head only provoked more questions.

She swallowed. “Chat Noir?”

“I—” His breath seemed to catch. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut that screamed the opposite. “I was just, um… Are you okay?”

Chat was shaking his head before she’d even finished her question—in a way that made her wonder if he’d actually heard her.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, turning away to brace himself against the railing.

After a few panicked heartbeats, Ladybug walked up to stand beside him, half-expecting him startle again. But he remained in place, clutching the metal balustrade for dear life.

“What are you sorry about?” she said. “You didn’t do anything.”

He just shook his head again in response.

Uncertainty ate away at Ladybug as she watched him. Hesitantly, she reached out and set a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t pull away this time, but she could feel him tense beneath her touch.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Chat’s answer came only once she’d given up on getting one. “Nothing.”

“Chaton…”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. “I mean, I’m not, but…” He glanced at her, lips wobbling. His mouth pressed briefly into a thin line before he spoke again. “It’s not like I can tell you anyways.”

She frowned. “Why can’t you—oh. You mean for identity reasons?”

He averted his eyes. “Something like that.”

A new wave of hopelessness rushed in, overwhelming enough that Ladybug almost said, Fuck it. After all the secrets that had weighed her down for so long, wasn’t this one simple? And didn’t they deserve it? One truth after thousands of lies, a taste of air after months of drowning.

Except she’d already failed the world once. Even if things seemed largely the same, she had no way of knowing what Gabriel’s wish might have altered. And with the Butterfly still unaccounted for, she couldn’t risk anything that might make it easier for the Ladybug and Black Cat to be united once more.

“I wish you could tell me everything,” she whispered, quietly enough that she half-hoped her words had been swallowed by the wind. “I wish we didn’t have to have secrets.”

Unexpectedly, Chat scoffed. “Do you?”

“W-what?”

The intensity of his gaze overwhelmed her; she glanced to the side, briefly, before curiosity pulled her back. But by then he was already looking away again, the brief flicker of emotion draining from his face.

“Nothing,” he said. “Never mind.”

Ladybug bit her lip, wracking her mind for something else to say. A hundred different barely-formed theories about what was going on with Chat tore through her mind, crashing into until they all coalesced into one fear.

“Did I do something?” she asked.

She’d been so caught up in everything with Adrien lately that she hadn’t stopped to think about Chat. And sure, she hadn’t really thought she had to. He hadn’t given her any indication he was upset with her postponing patrols or cancelling strategy sessions. But should she have checked in with him anyways? Had he been hurting all this time, and she’d missed it?

Chat inhaled sharply. “No. You’ve been…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I am so, so lucky to have you.”

“Are you sure? Because…” You can’t even look at me. “ I know I haven’t been around that much, lately. I’ve just… I’ve had stuff going on, and—”

“I know, my lady. I promise, it’s not about that.” In a quieter voice, he added, “This was all me.”

A shuddering breath followed his words, and he turned his head even further away from her—though not before she noticed a tear drip down the edge of his mask. Her insides contorted, equal parts guilt and sympathy and anger.

Why was it the people she loved most who kept hurting? The people who deserved it least of all?

It wasn’t fair.

But she couldn’t put any of those feelings into words; she could only press herself weakly against Chat’s side, fearing that anything more would have him pulling away again. She hoped he understood she’d do anything in her power to help him.

She hoped Adrien understood that too.

Caught up in her own thoughts, she barely processed Chat’s next words. And even once she was pretty sure she understood them, she almost made him repeat himself anyways—because the question came out of nowhere.

“Do you ever feel like you’re a terrible person?”

Admittedly, her gut instinct was to laugh; of course she did. All the time.

Except… she didn’t really. Not once the dust had settled, and Alya or her maman had talked her down from her latest metaphorical cliff. She could list her mistakes and shortcomings until the end of time, but at least she always tried to do the right thing.

She was searching for a way to explain that when she realized Chat’s question wasn’t about her at all.

“What are you talking about?! You’re, like, one of the best people I know!”

He buried his face in his hands. “No, I’m not. I’m not even a—” He broke off with a choked sound. “Never mind. It’s just that I keep letting everyone down. Disappointing them.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is, though. I mean, even Ma—my girlfriend. Except she’s not my girlfriend anymore, because obviously I screwed that up too.”

“Oh, Chaton.” Suddenly, his behaviour made a lot more sense—and she finally knew what to say to him.

She knew all too well what he was going through.

But Chat rushed on before she could get a word in. “Then there was my father. But maybe he doesn’t count, because I’m not sure he ever expected anything of me to begin with.”

“Hey—no. There’s no way—”

“And then there’s you,” Chat croaked.

Ladybug struggled to keep her voice steady. “Okay, now I know you’re talking crazy. Because there’s no way you’ve ever let me down.”

“But I did. When you took down Monarch, and I couldn’t even…” He finally managed to look back at her, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. “If only I’d actually been there…”

Everything might have turned out differently.

Neither of them said the words aloud. They didn’t have to.

But Ladybug had played through thousands of what ifs for that day, and only a handful even involved Chat. Because the blame was firmly on her shoulders.

“It’s not your fault,” she insisted. “And… you couldn’t have changed anything.”

“How do you know that?”

Ladybug tugged anxiously on her fingers. She didn’t have an explanation. And if she were being honest, part of her was glad he hadn’t been there. She wasn’t really sure if he would have gone along with her plan to paint the man who’d been Monarch as a hero.

Not that there had been much of a point to that lie, in the end. She’d already accepted—however begrudgingly—that Adrien needed to learn the whole truth about his father.

“It doesn’t matter how I know,” she told Chat. “The point is—”

“It does matter. You never even told me what happened that day!”

“What? Of course I did.”

He shook his head. “You told me the same story you told all of Paris. No specifics.”

“Oh. Well…” She dug her nails into her palm. “I guess there’s just not much more to it. I said everything important, and I—I don’t really like to talk about it. I mean it’s not like I’m hiding anything. It’s just—”

“Great. Then you won’t mind if I ask a few questions?”

A metallic taste filled Ladybug’s mouth. “Is now really the best time for that?”

Chat snorted. “What do I have left to lose?”

Ladybug regarded him with alarm, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Besides,” he said, “it’s just a few questions. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Chat Noir, I really don’t think—”

“I just want to know about Gabriel Agreste.”

Ladybug felt like her jaw had been glued shut. She tried to say something—to redirect the conversation, or to straight out refuse—but each syllable only tripped up the next until she ran out of air. Please, ask me about literally anything else.

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” Chat said. “Like, why was he even there?”

“He—I don’t—” Ladybug swallowed the bile rising up her throat, fumbling for a part of the truth she could share. “I mean, Monarch was at the his house, so…”

“But why? And how was Gabriel even able to help? Wasn’t most of the city incapacitated by the Akuma?”

“I guess so, but maybe not everyone? Or maybe he fought off the nightmares, I don’t rem—”

“So Gabriel escaped the Akuma’s pull and then he helped you?”

“I… Can we please do this later?” So I have time to get my story straight? “It’s really just not the best time.”

“Of course it’s not,” Chat scoffed. “It never is.”

“What—” Ladybug faltered upon seeing the look on his face. She continued in a small voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The fire drained from Chat’s eyes, replaced by a hollowness that ate away at her.

“You say I’ve never let you down,” he whispered, “but you still don’t trust me.”

Was that really what he thought?

She reached for his hand, squeezing desperately. But he just pulled away.

“I do trust you,” she said. “More than anything. But this is just—maybe we can try another question?”

“I don’t want to know anything else.”

“But…” Adrien didn’t even know yet. So it didn’t matter if there was some part of her that desperately wanted Chat to know. “I can’t.”

Chat reached out and gripped her shoulders. “Please, Ladybug.” His hands shook. “I need to know. Whatever he did, whatever made you say he was a hero.” A choked sound escaped him.

Ladybug couldn’t understand his desperation, but she could feel it. She could feel how much she was letting him down.

Yet she couldn’t tell him the truth. He wouldn’t understand why she’d lied to protect Gabriel’s image. She wasn’t even sure Adrien would understand.

Everything was crumbling, and Ladybug couldn’t bear the thought of losing two of the people she loved most in the world.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, lips trembling until she broke into a sob. “I can’t tell you what he did. I can’t. I…”

I can’t tell another lie.

She felt Chat’s hands drop from her shoulders, and she felt something else inside her break. She was going to lose him. Like she’d lose Adrien.

The air felt heavy; each breath was drowned by her tears. Chat was saying something, but she couldn’t hear. She could barely even see his retreating form—though she did catch another glimpse of fear in his eyes.

Something’s really wrong, she realized.

She tried to focus on that. On him. Maybe if she couldn’t steady her breath for herself, she could do it because Chat needed her.

But she didn’t have a chance to reach out for him. He disappeared between one sob and the next.