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The first time Ladybug brings up Adrien during patrol, Chat’s glad it’s dark enough that she can’t see him blushing under the mask.
The second, third, and fourth times he’s flattered that his Lady regards him so highly. But the fifth time, he’s worried.
Chat Noir knows she likes Adrien a lot, as he gathers from her gushing over him during patrol, but a nagging voice whispers in the back of his mind.
She loves Adrien, not you.
It’s like a weed, growing along and choking and taking up all the resources until it eventually kills him.
She loves Adrien, not you.
Chat can’t help but feel jealous. Jealous of himself, and he hates it. He’s worried and afraid that Ladybug couldn’t truly love all of him, not with all of the times she’s rejected Chat without a thought. He could never reveal himself to her. Too messy, too many feelings being thrown around.
She loves Adrien, not you, and it isn’t fair, his brain murmurs, and it’s not fair because Adrien is Chat, really. But Ladybug doesn’t see it. She sees them as two different personas, two different people.
She’ll never love all of you.
It takes another week of Ladybug going on and on about his civilian self before he snaps. She asks him something about the model and all he can see is green.
Chat stands, staff extended and ready to jump to another rooftop so he can head home.
“Chat, wait, where are you going?” Ladybug’s fingers curl around his wrist, and he softens for a second before he remembers that it’s Adrien she loves.
“Just tired, Bugaboo,” he lies through his teeth.
Ladybug smiles, understanding. “We’ll talk tomorrow, then?"
He nods, before sprinting away. The Paris scenery blurs as his eyes well up with tears before he makes it back through his window. Chat tumbles into his bedroom as he turns to Adrien, and Plagg hovers over his charge. He sees the tears Adrien fumbles to wipe away.
“I don’t get it,” Adrien sniffles. “How can you be jealous of yourself?”
Plagg only shrugs, as much as the tiny kwami can. “You’re afraid.”
They both lie on the floor, Plagg’s words rolling through his head. Of course he’s afraid. He’s afraid of what Ladybug would think. He’s afraid of what Ladybug would do, and he’s afraid of how much he loves her.
“I’m really afraid,” Adrien adds as the tears fall silently against his cheeks. “I just, I love her so much and I’m afraid that if she knew she would never come back. She never loved Chat Noir anyway. I can’t...I can’t go through that again, you know?” Silence stretches over the two as Adrien comes to a realization. “I can’t ever tell her, can I?”
Plagg’s resistance to answer is all he needs to confirm it.
As Adrien tucks himself into bed, Plagg flies onto his pillow. “I know that you and Chat Noir are the same person. But sometimes you feel like two different people.”
And Adrien nods, head falling back onto the other plush pillow. “Sometimes it does.”
When Marinette learns about Adrien’s secret relationship, she’s secretly ecstatic that he trusts her enough to tell her.
The fluttering butterflies in her stomach turn to raging dragons when he pats her shoulder and tells her that she’s a good friend.
In reality, she already knew about the relationship anyway. But the day Adrien and Nino tell her, she has to act surprised. They all sit in the pink and blue-striped booth, licking the frozen custard off their spoons while Adrien tells the story of the sticky notes for the millionth time.
And she’s happy for him, because Adrien deserves it. Marinette watches him practically float as he praises Ladybug and everything she does and she’s just so wonderful and beautiful and one time we--
Marinette stabs her custard with the spoon, and her three friends turn to look at her.
“I--I was just thinking!” She splutters, fishing for a quick lie she could tell them. “I forgot! To get sprinkles!”
Alya‘s eyebrows crinkle together, watching Marinette carefully and precisely. The concerned gazes of her friends make her uncomfortable, so she bolts up and sprints to the bathroom instead.
He loves Ladybug, not you.
Marinette bursts through the bathroom doors, sinking onto a seat as she wills herself not to cry.
He loves Ladybug, not you.
Before the tears can even spill, Alya’s stomping through the bathroom and hugging her best friend to her chest.
“Hey, hey, Mari,” she soothes, “girl, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
He loves Ladybug, not you, and it isn’t fair, she thinks. And it isn’t fair, because Ladybug and Marinette were completely separate in Adrien’s eyes.
Marinette sobs into Alya’s t-shirt as Alya pats her back.
“It’s really scary, I know,” Alya mumbles into her hair, “but you guys are going to make it work. And he’ll see you, Mari, he really will and he’s going to love you, I swear.”
He’ll never love all of you.
“But he loves Ladybug, and I know that I’m Ladybug but I’m also Marinette and he doesn’t love Marinette, at least, not the way I love him,” she knows she’s rambling but she can’t help the words that tumble and scramble their way out of her mouth. “There’s this whole other side of me that I can’t really share and it’s just not fair!”
Alya pulls Marinette away and holds her at arm’s length so she can look at her directly. “But you’ve shared so much already. You show him your designs, you guys bake together, you guys cuddle and kiss and act silly together. Just because you aren’t as clumsy or you don’t stutter as much as Ladybug doesn’t mean you aren’t just as much Marinette during your night visits.”
Marinette reaches for the toilet paper piece Alya hands her to blow her nose. “I’m scared. I’m just scared because he puts Ladybug on this--this pedestal, and I can’t knock that down just by taking off the mask, god, I can’t do that to him.”
“But he loves you for you, that’s what you’re missing here.” Alya corrects, poking her best friend’s nose. “If you showed him what’s under the mask he’d still be ecstatic because it’s you.”
Marinette nods, but still, the negative thoughts are grasping her and pulling her farther. She groans, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I’m literally jealous of myself. God, what the fuck is wrong with that?”
“It’s weird, I’ll give you that, but the circumstances make sense,” her best friend points out.
Marinette stands, taking a deep breath and walking over to the mirror. Her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy. She’s horribly pale and trembling.
“I-I know Ladybug and I are the same person, but sometimes it feels like we’re two different people.”
Alya nods, standing quietly behind her and wrapping her arms around Marinette’s shoulders. “Sometimes it does.”