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Adrien decides that being in public with Nino and Alya is one of his least favorite things in the world.
It’s awful and he wants to claw his skin off.
Adrien is wearing some semblance of a disguise, of course, a hoodie and big glasses and his hair is more Chat Noir that Adrien Agreste, even if someone does notice the blond sticking out from under his hood.
But three people holding hands or just… acting too familiar would draw attention and that would drastically incerease the risk of him being recognized.
They go out like this all the time but that was before Adrien had gotten used to touching them both constantly.
Nino is touching him—Nino’s arm is frequently draped across Adrien’s shoulders, but that doesn’t make the hand holding and little kisses Nino and Alya get to share hurt any less.
Adrien craves affection like he craves air.
That’s what Adrien blames his own foolish behavior on.
He’s not sure what Alya’s excuse is, though.
Maybe Adrien just looked too much like a kicked kitten.
Nino gets distracted by a Music store and Alya drags Adrien into a dress shop.
They wander through the isles for a while, Alya asking for Adrien’s informed and not at all biased opinion on what will look best on her which means he’s flirting, constantly.
She’s wonderful and snarky and their words flow with ease.
His heart rate slows.
It’s not like Adrien isn’t aware that they’re inching closer and closer, that they’re in public, but his back is mostly to whoever is walking into the isle, so they won’t see his face and Alya is famous but she rarely gets recognized in public and it’s only ever fans rather than other reporters or paparazzi.
It doesn’t seem like a danger.
He touches her cheek.
Flirting with her has been the first time all afternoon that Adrien hasn’t felt like he was going insane—having imagined an entire reality where he could do this. Where he was loved.
As long as they don’t get carried away, no one will pay attention to a random couple kissing in a store. There’s plenty of room to walk around them.
She tilts her head up and lets her eyes fall shut and he leans down. Their lips touch for one wonderful, peaceful moment. With a sigh, his shoulders relax for the first time in hours.
And then—
“Alya!”
Adrien is pretty good at recognizing people by voice, outside of magical interference of course, and they are. so. fucked.
Mrs. Lahiffe is behind him.
And he might not be recognizable as Adrien Agreste from this angle, but Alya is and the hand on Alya’s cheek is most definitely not Nino’s.
“Alya Césaire! That is you!”
Alya slips from his grasp— and that feels like a painful metaphor, doesn’t it?— and positions herself between him and Nino’s mother, which, he’s pretty sure is backwards, but he’s frozen.
“Mama Lahiffe!”
Black Cat Luck isn’t supposed to work like this.
“Oh you do not get to call me that, young lady.”
In some cultures, cats are good luck, you know?
“Ma’am, please lower your voice, we can explain!”
Instead of lowering her voice, she raises it. “Oh, you can explain?!”
The bell above the door chimes, and even though they’re several isles away, Adrien can hear the footsteps and—
“Yes, we can and we—oh, thank the gods, Nino! We’re over here!”
🦊 🐢 🐈⬛
If Mrs Lahiffe thinks it’s strange that Alya could tell Nino was in the store from where his voice calls, “Marco!” she doesn’t show it through the anger on her face.
Alya winces. “Polo!” She steps back and bumps into Adrien.
He turns, places his hands on her shoulder just as Nino rounds the corner behind his mother.
“Hey, guys, what’s—oh.” He walks around his mother and positions himself solidly between them all. “Hi, ma.”
“Hello, son. Alya and Adrien, really? …Were just about to explain something to me. I really had thought better of them both, baby. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”
Mrs. Lahiffe doesn’t take her eyes off of Alya and Adrien until Nino’s directly in the way.
“Ma, I’m sure that there’s an explanation for whatever you think happened, but please calm down.”
“I don’t know what to think—“
“Is there a problem here?” A clerk asks.
“We were just leaving,” Alya says, abandoning her cart and grabbing both boys by the hand.
“Young lady!” Mrs Lahiffe starts, but huffs and follows them when Nino grabs her hand too.
“I promise everything is fine,” he says.