Work Text:
She expected the hotel suite to be empty. Marinette fell asleep last night, thinking she would wake up in the king-sized bed all alone. Which is why she had stayed awake for as long as she could, cherishing the moment. Just holding onto Adrien, letting his arms evaporate into her skin during their embrace. Watching him sleep with the saddest of smiles.
American girls would be blessed to have him as a well-known model.
Of course, Marinette always knew she would be the luckiest…
...but still.
Last night had been so beautifully bittersweet. But this morning would be hell on her heart. Yet it was the way it had to be. They had lives to live, things to do and different roads to take.
The alarm on the bedside table buzzed, and Marinette groaned as she rolled over, slamming a tiny fist onto the snooze button. 8:30 am. Time to turn over a new leaf … she had been eighteen for only a week now and it wasn’t what she expected.
A soft summer breeze caused the gossamer curtains to flap and flutter, like white butterflies.
Marinette smiled to herself. Tikki may have left but the memories never would.
Memories of being fearless and brave, saving Paris, and- and of course. Him. Tears brimmed Marinette’s baby blue eyes, and she blinked them back quickly. Chat Noir, Adrien, the boy who changed her life at only fourteen. And what a whirlwind the past four years had been. Friendship, love, secrets, loss, the list only went on from there. They had been through so much.
Fate was laughing at the both of them now.
The bed was empty.
As she thought it was going to be.
It suddenly felt too big. The comforter was a weight on her lithe body, and she had too much room.
With Adrien … he made the space seem not so big. He made it feel like there was nothing but them, and not even in this context, but everytime and everywhere.
One could say he might have been magic.
But then again, no one ever believed in that. Marinette did believe in love, though, and she thought it would last. She knew Adrien felt the same way. Although, if the track of life took them different ways, who were they to object otherwise?
He was headed for America, she was going to uni in Nice.
It was a mutual heartbreak at the realization of the news. Last night was a goodbye and a promise to keep in touch. Just because the distance between them would expand, doesn’t mean their love would diminish.
Still, it would hurt to lose the physical copy of the boy she loved so dearly.
Marinette sighed one last time before sliding out of bed. She had a train to catch at noon. She tried to ignore the small water stains on her pillowcase. She may or may not have cried herself to sleep last night. Bless Adrien for being such a heavy sleeper. If she had been in a better mood, she would crack a little cat joke to herself about that…
...not now, though. Not today.
Maybe not for a while.
She checked her phone, which had been resting on the coffee table. Nothing.
Adrien was probably already at the airport, on his way to America. Of course. He had been so torn about the news, the job offer he couldn’t refuse. After all, he wouldn’t be eighteen for a few more months. He honestly didn’t have a choice. He must’ve figured that just up and leaving would hurt less - and dammit, Marinette knew he was right.
‘Miss you already :)’ she punched in for a text. Her finger hovered over the send button. Then, she hit it without thinking.
Running a hand through her hair, which was messy not only from sleeping but from last night’s activities, she trudged past the mirror. To think these were the last touches from Adrien. God . She wished that the soft bruises, sore lips, tingling skin and hickeys would never go away. A lingering memory of their final evening together. It was the best way to go, that was for sure.
Marinette gingerly stepped across the carpet, stopping in the doorway of the bathroom. The contents of her purse were scattered on the counter, but what really caught her eye was the fact her lipstick had been stolen and used. A smile tugged at her lips, noticing that the mirror had been vandalized.
A simple heart drawn in her soft pink lipstick, with Adrien’s signature at the bottom.
“Silly kitten,” she mused, staring at the stupidly sentimental gesture.
Marinette couldn’t take her eyes off of it as she began to run a bath. Despite the warmth, she shivered. Memories of last night flooded her mind, while she sunk into the water and closed her eyes.
Dinner date. Light conversation, dodging the subject. Adrien driving her here, to this hotel, with a secret reservation. She was a smart girl, she had picked up what he was putting down. Her passionate answer to his silent question was enough.
The rest was a blur.
Flashes of kisses; her lipstick streaking across his cheek, a suit tie and dress falling on the floor.
They had danced this way before, rather awkwardly once or twice … but last night, she had an understanding of what making love really felt like.
It was fresh and pure and …
… now, in the morning, it hurt. She knew that wasn’t supposed to be part of it.
Swimming in thoughts and water, Marinette let herself soak. She tried to float away from the present, but something was itching at her. She rolled her head on her shoulders, trying to relax and ease up tension before she had to check out and leave.
Leave and restart.
Turn to the next chapter.
Et cetera, et-fucking-cetera.
She swallowed hard, staring up at the cream-colored ceiling.
This was it for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The love she had, the one that she was so sure of, had just been torn out of dollar-store romance novels. Adrien would always care about her, he kept his promises, and they would stay in contact. But something inside of her felt like nothing would ever be the same.
Her blue eyes fluttered close, but popped open the minute she heard a very familiar beeping noise.
A hotel key. Registering to open her door.
“What in the world,” she mumbled.
She rose up out of the tub, clumsily using a towel to dry off. Wrapping the hotel-provided robe around her body, Marinette breathed deep. She heard nothing but footsteps, and grabbed her laughably small can of mace from the counter. Better than nothing, she thought.
She crept out of the bathroom, holding out the can…
...which promptly fell from her hand once she saw who was in the room.
No.
Yes.
Both words chanted in her head as she looked at the almost angelic figure standing by the window. What? How? Why? That was what tugged at every fiber of her being, all of her heartstrings.
A few stutters slipped past her mouth, and that was hook.
“Marinette,”
Line.
“Adrien,” she breathed out.
And sinker.
There were mixed reactions. Adrien, a smile on his face and hair falling in front of his face. One arm outstretched for a hug, holding a tray with two coffees in his other hand. And Marinette, paler than ever, about to faint on the floor. Shaking, stammering, and caught in a bubble of disbelief.
And whatever words she managed to form cut him to the core.
“What are you doing here?”
Adrien stopped, his expression falling. He placed the coffees on the nearby table, swaggering forward.
Marinette did nothing. No response whatsoever. He would have killed for something, anything. Even a step away from him as he stepped forward. A smile, a laugh, he even would have taken a sneer. Whatever that could reassure him she was actually here, and he was in a reality of some sorts.
“I … I didn’t get on the plane,” Adrien said.
Those words were no different than getting electrocuted.
“What?!” Marinette shrieked. She yanked the strap of her robe into a knot, shaking her head in disbelief. “Adrien, why? Y-you have to!”
Adrien gave a halfhearted shrug, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Why do I have to, Marinette?” he asked.
“Because,” the word choked out of her, breathless and constricted. “Y-you … you said so. You said you didn’t have a choice. That we,” The tears returned and there was nothing Marinette could do to hold them back. She began to softly cry, sitting on the loveseat. “Adrien, what are you doing?”
The loveseat caved in a little as he sat down next to her, gently peeling her hand away from her face. His gaze fixated on solely her, and he stared at her intently - despite the fact she dodged his glances.
“I came back,” Adrien whispered. “I … I was brave. The bravest I’ve been in a while.” His breath hitched as he leaned in to place a kiss on the crook between his girlfriend’s neck and cheek. “I got to the airport. I was about to board and then I remembered. I remembered all the reasons I should stay here, in Paris. In this beautiful city, in my home. With you.”
“You didn’t,” Marinette choked out. “Adrien, please don’t tell me you came back for me.”
Adrien let out a laugh of all things. “You were one of the reasons, yes,” he mumbled. “But I called my father and confronted him. I decided he can’t rule me anymore, it was his idea for me to go to America in the first place. And let’s just say it … it wasn’t the best conversation we ever had.”
She felt his tears falling on her arm, and the two of them stayed intertwined on the loveseat.
The silence was so thick, so heavy.
“I ripped up the plane ticket and got the first taxi back here,” he said, his voice now shaking. “Back to you. Back home. I can’t go to America, Marinette. There’s too much here for me. I have enough money and fame here to last me a lifetime. It’s not worth anything compared to what I have since everything started.”
“Everything with us?” Marinette spoke up.
“Yes,” Adrien replied. “With you. With my life. Ever since I became Chat Noir, started going to regular school, everything. You and so much more.”
There was another pause, swinging like a pendulum. Too many questions and not enough answers. Adrien’s breath tickled her, just like last night, but this time, Marinette had no chills up her spine. She was completely and utterly numb.
“I’d be lying if I said you weren’t the most important part,” he whispered.
Marinette coughed out a rueful laugh, shaking her head. “You’re the stupidest cat ever,” she muttered.
Her eyes darted to look at him, and that smile of his made her fall in love all over again.
“But you love me,” Adrien practically trilled.
“Yes,” Marinette whispered, cradling his face in her hands. “Yes, I do.”
The coffee grew cold as their bodies grew hot. Their roads had divided apart, but after a few detours, they merged back together. It was an unused road, something new and undiscovered. But it seemed that both of them were willing to travel down it together.
“I thought this was all over,” Marinette choked out as Adrien leaned her body back and began to shower her with kisses. “I thought,” She choked on tears and words. “I … I don’t know what I thought.”
Pressing a kiss to her collarbone, Adrien sighed. “Neither did I,” he assured.
She gripped at him, everywhere all at once, crying and laughing.
“I’m not going to leave you again, Marinette,” he murmured against her skin. “It killed me this morning.”
Marinette released a series of shushes, twirling his perfect blonde locks around her slender fingers. She kissed along his cheek, sliding his lips across hers in a chaste kiss. “You’re here,” she said tenderly. “You’re here and I won’t let you go, Adrien.”
He rested his head on her shoulder, breathing heavily. “So what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “And I don’t care.”
“I want to come with you. To Nice,” Adrien said, with a child-like wonder in his voice. “We could get a flat and live together. You attend university, I’ll get a job or … something. I don’t know.” He breathed in sync with her, cradling her body in his grip. “I just need another new start. Will you help me?”
They were young. So young. Adrien wouldn’t be eighteen until the fall, but he was Adrien Agreste, dammit. His last name could get him to jump through a few hoops, they would put things in Marinette’s name if they really had to … they could make it work. But that was too much, too heavy of a topic for nine in the morning. Especially piled on with everything else - the almost-there-but-not-quite heartbreak, with twists and turns and pure confusion.
Now, as they lay together, with pale summer light peeking in and soft breezes teasing and tickling them-
-this felt right. This felt perfect. This was what love felt like.
“Of course,” Marinette assured, kissing the top of his head.
She was taking in a stray cat. He was following a little ladybug through the garden of life. Metaphors aside, it was going to be okay.
The rising sun, the beauty of Paris and the purity of their love was enough hope in all the world.