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“Hey, don't you think Adrien has been acting rather out of character? A little strange?" Nathalie whispered into the girl’s ear, leaning down a little.
Marinette’s eyes opened in an instant, an expression of pure terror spreading through her whole body, freezing her. Nathalie had seen her scared many, many times before, always over much smaller events: scary face paint, a bug that popped out of nowhere on her plate and chased her one time they had breakfast in the mansion's garden, even over panicking she had lost her earrings —her favorite pair, a gift from her uncle that lived in China and she rarely saw, or so she explained to Adrien— one time her hair had tangled up on them and both Nathalie and Adrien had to help her take the black studs out and wrangle them out from her poor chlorine-damaged hair after the pool. When the tiny things had rolled down from the bench she was on, she had gotten such a bad scare out of it she even vowed not to go swimming ever again without a swimming cap or braiding her hair; maybe even both.
Even that time looked like nothing against what those simple words did to her. Instead of her usual random emoting over any emotion stronger than mild, she stood still, silent, with only her eyes wide open and her hands shaking slightly to account for the turmoil inside her.
"You- You think so?" she whispered back, her voice somehow not giving her away except for the tiny stutter. She glanced at Adrien nervously, unsuspecting all the way looking for cinnamon in the spice cabinet across the room.
Almost as if she read her mind, Nathalie suddenly got up from her seat, and announced. "Adrien? I just remembered I still need to have Marinette select which of your father's old materials she wants to have before donating the rest to your school's fashion and textiles program. Unless you want to keep them, of course. Since you're still working on those waffles, would you mind if I take her to see the materials?”
“Just text or call me so we can come back when you’re done!” Marinette added enthusiastically. Perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
“Sure,” Adrien replied, peeking out from behind the cabinet. “If you end up picking too many things I can help you carry them to your place. Or we can even ask Nathalie to drive us so we can put everything in the trunk,” he added with a knowing smile.
Marinette’s cheeks flushed a soft pink all the way to the tips of her ears. “I don’t think I’ll choose that many things. I have lots of materials already and I’m very capable of being very moderate when getting supplies, thank you,” she pouted.
“Adrien did have to call me to help you two with the car last time you went to the fabric store because you tried to carry thirty different types of fabric in a bag bigger than both of you on your scooter, and fabrics are barely half the full supply stash we have stored,” Nathalie raised her eyebrow, playing along.
“THAT’S NOT- Okay, I can go a liiittle overboard with supplies,” Marinette conceded, defeated. “I might not get as carried away this time though, if what I don’t take is going to the school. It would be nice to share with everyone.”
“And because you’re gonna be able to use the materials at school anyways?” Adrien teased her.
“You know me far too well,” Marinette blew him a kiss. Adrien smiled and played catching it, which placed a pleasant smile on Marinette’s face. Though, as soon as he turned around with a “have fun!” it melted off her features almost as fast as it had appeared, burnt away by guilt and panic. At least Nathalie was already walking off and waving for her to follow her steps.
By the time they had reached Gabriel Agreste’s late studio, Marinette’s wide-eyed shocked expression had already returned.
“I’m concerned about him. Worried even,” Nathalie was the first to speak. “He’s always been quiet, at least around Gabriel, but he’s been so quiet at times it’s almost as if Gabriel was here.”
“Do you think-” Marinette asked with a seriousness Nathalie had only ever seen on her while masked.
“There’s no way to tell. If any, he might have figured we both know something, but I doubt he’d be able to hold the truth and carry himself as close to normal as he has been these days. If he hasn’t been acting strange towards you, I guess the odds are lower than I thought. ”
Marinette exhaled the whole content of her lungs out, an inkling of light returning to her. She looked more like a worried Marinette than a tense, terrified Ladybug again.
“He’s been on and off. The akumas at school haven’t been helping, even if I try my best to keep an eye out to catch them. It’s not just too much for me anymore, Nathalie! It’s rubbing off on him!” Marinette cried out, and yet, she kept her voice down enough not even someone placing their ear to the doors would make out her words.
“We’ve talked about this, Marinette,” Nathalie reminded her sternly. There was no choice for her; therefore, neither for the girl.
“The therapist… I think she’s helping him. But I feel like he’s been way more deep in his thoughts than usual,” she cut herself off, a hint of hurt on her voice. As if she were going for what Nathalie wanted to hear rather than what she wanted to say. Nathalie’s chest was hit by a pang of sharp, stabbing guilt; she could do nothing but clench her teeth and wait.
“I’ve noticed the same. We might have to wait it out,” Nathalie concluded. She walked towards the corner of the room, rummaging in a big box there, and pulled out a black plastic bag she put in Marinette’s arms.
“There. Some fabrics so he won’t be suspicious. Tell him you decided the stash was too big so you’re going to keep sorting through it with more calm but you’re interested in the contents nonetheless. That way you have an alibi if we need to talk here again.”
Marinette felt gravity act on the bag in her arms, the effort she needed becoming bigger so it wouldn’t pull her to the floor as the pair made their way down.
~(X)~
“Hey, don’t you think they’ve been acting a little weird lately? They’ve been talking a lot,” Adrien asked Plagg in a low voice. It might be a while before Marinette and Nathalie made their way back, but he would rather be safe than sorry.
“Maybe they’re just starting to get along better?” the Kwami replied.