Work Text:
Study hall in the library was unusually empty and quiet. Adrien and Nino sat at one table, books spread across a table far too big for the both of them, and there were maybe two or three other people scattered between the stacks. It was almost summer break, and most people preferred to spend their time in the courtyard or the park across the street.
Adrien should've been studying, but in his defense, Nino didn't look to be, either. His best friend had his headphones on, and his head was nestled between folded arms on top of a book that was most decidedly shut. It was hard to tell whether he was still conscious.
His mind was buzzing, not with activity, per se, but with boredom, and the math problems he'd vowed to practice did nothing to clear his mind. He couldn't focus.
He was probably going to fail.
Then again, math wasn't the only exam he had to study for. He pushed one notebook away and grabbed another. Literature, at least, interested him enough to hopefully capture his attention.
Mme. Bustier was struggling to fit in one last chapter before the year's end, and while the rest of the class grumbled about it, Adrien was secretly thrilled. He found poetry fascinating. But his gaze still skimmed over the list of vocabulary terms, unable to latch onto anything. Words like "iamb" and "anapest" and "trochee" went in one ear and out the other, so to speak. Ugh. He reached over into his bag to pull out his packet of index cards to make flashcards, but he must have left them at home, or else Plagg had eaten them, because he couldn't find any.
He ran his fingers through his hair once and briefly considered joining Nino in a napping session, but reluctantly, he pulled out the meager study guide they'd been given and glanced it over. Anything to feel productive.
It was fairly broad, listing vague parameters for in-class essays and unhelpfully reminding the class to "remember plot points from novels throughout the semester!" At the bottom, their teacher had scribbled "be sure to brush up on the readings listed on the school website" before photocopying the original, although with the bottom cut off, it may have also said "be sure to brush up on the reading before failing this test anyway." But it was probably the former.
Adrien had stupidly already turned his textbook in, but he had his phone, at least, so he pulled up the class's page on the school's website and scanned the list. There were a few critical essays that looked far too long and far too boring, some short stories that he remembered and therefore did not want to re-read, and a few poems.
He put his phone down and glared at his notebook. Why couldn't it just be summer already? When he would be free to do nothing--well, as close to nothing as he was ever going to get, with his full-time job as the savior of Paris and part-time job as his father's foremost model. Still, he ached with the desire to spend hours, maybe even an entire afternoon, doing nothing, either as Adrien in his cool, air-conditioned room, or as Chat Noir, sunning himself on the rooftop of some isolated building.
Maybe Ladybug might join him for a bit. Adrien wanted to spend time with her over the vacation, to make her laugh, to compare her eyes to the clear summer sky and see what could warm him more. He cringed inwardly at his own sappiness. Clearly, he still had poetry on the brain.
That last thought gave him an idea, and he leaned over his notebook; his mind had a singular purpose now, and he could barely write fast enough to keep up.
Nino awoke with a start as the final bell rang, and tried to play it cool by reaching down to pretend to turn down the volume on his music, as though a sudden loud part of a song had taken him by surprise. He scooped his books and notebooks into his bag and, still not removing his headphones, gave his best friend a quick wave before slouching out of the library.
He was home in a few minutes, and dumped his school things on his bed. As refreshing as his nap had been, Nino couldn't put off studying forever, and he picked up his chemistry notebook and kicked back in his desk chair.
Only, upon flipping it open, he discovered that it wasn't actually his chem notebook. It wasn't his handwriting, and instead of numbers, he was faced with--wait, was that a poem? He leaned closer to decipher it through the scrawl and scratched-out words.
The warm flame of the summer sun
Cannot hold a candle to your beauty.
Your eyes, clearer than the sky;
Your gaze, softer than the breeze.
Yet, for all these outward features,
What I most adore is
The beauty of your heart;
The kindness in your soul.
My lovely Lady Luck,
I wonder how I could be so lucky
As to know you, even scarcely,
Even barely, as I do.
To see you, hear you, touch you,
Even briefly, as I do.
Admire you, like you, love you,
Ever deeply, as I do.
Dearest lady, I ask nothing in return
Than for you to know how strongly my affection for you burns.
Nino didn't recognize this poem from their unit, but maybe it was from the study guide? He was about to cast the paper aside to puzzle out later, when his phone buzzed.
[Adrien]: hey man, i think you grabbed my notebook
[Nino]: idk man but i did find shakespeare's or smth so ???
[Adrien]: TELL ME YOU DIDN'T
[Adrien]: NINO
[Adrien]: DID U READ IT
[Adrien]: I WILL CUT U
The next morning, Nino had barely sat down when Adrien looked at him impatiently, stretching out a hand. Nino dug in his bag and pulled out his definitely-not-chem-notebook and handed it to his best friend, who shoved it into his own bag and hissed, "We are never speaking of this again," before turning his attention to the front of the room.