When Duty and Desire Meet

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/9523928.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Relationship: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-
Cheng, Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chat Noir/Ladybug,
Chat Noir & Ladybug, Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Alya
Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Character: Adrien Agreste, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladybug (Miraculous
Ladybug), Chat Noir (Miraculous Ladybug), Nino Lahiffe, Alya Césaire
Additional Tags: Older!Chat AU, collab story, College AU, PhD student Adrien, Fashion
Student Marinette, Reverse Crush AU, Reverse!Crush AU, Marichat,
adrienette - Freeform, LB loves Chat, Adrien loves Marinette, Future
Fic, they STILL don't know each others identities, Art in Fic,
Interconnected oneshots, both author and artist are sluts for blushing
and enable each other, midnightstarlightwrites is the author, edelet is
the artist
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of When Duty and Desire Meet Series
Stats: Published: 2017-01-30 Updated: 2022-08-21 Chapters: 21/? Words:
116054

When Duty and Desire Meet

by EdenDaphne (edelet), midnightstarlightwrites

Summary

Adrien was twenty years old when he first became Chat Noir and met Ladybug. Four years
later, amidst the toughest time of his college career, he meets Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
A College/Reverse Crush AU exploring what would happen if Marinette was four years
younger than Adrien, how that would change the nature of their superhero partnership, and
how one chance meeting can spark an affair that causes a long-dormant battle of duty vs
desire to reignite.
 The Gaming Club Part One
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

When Adrien signed up for the Gaming Club, he’d expected a small group of like-minded nerds,
sharing laughs over games both vintage and new.

Really, it showed how out of touch he was with campus life. But that was understandable. At
twenty-four years old, already well into his PhD in astrophysics, and occasionally working for his
father’s world renowned fashion house, it was amazing that he knew what day it was. Some days
he wondered if his blood was still red, and not stained brown with the vast amount of coffee he
drank.

The fact that he’d almost collapsed from sheer exhaustion last week had been proof of his severe
lack of time- and the scolding he’d gotten from both his supervisor and his father still stung
vividly.

Good thing Ladybug never found out. She was already cracking jokes about him becoming an ‘old
man’.

Still, that was the reason why he found himself clamouring down the poorly-lit stairs, to the
basement levels of the university, following the sounds of a pulsing beat. It was almost like a
dream, surreal that the university could be so full of energy post teaching hours. Adrien wondered
if he’d gotten the wrong place, the wrong room. Sure, gamers could be a loud bunch, but whatever
was happening in room 03B sounded like a rave.

His curiosity got them better of him and he traipsed down the corridor, the beat of the song
throbbing through his veins the way only truly loud music can, acting like a siren’s call. The door
for 03B was slightly ajar, and it was dark inside save for several coloured, brightly flashing lights.
Now that Adrien was closer, he could hear the people behind the door, the denizens of the Gaming
Club, separate from the music. They were chanting.

He pushed open the door.

“MARI, MARI, MARI!”

The small classroom had been turned upside down, chairs and tables pushed and stacked against
the walls with a space carved out in the middle like a dance floor. The smart board had been linked
to a console and two dance mats, the screen projecting the latest DDR game. Through the crowd,
Adrien could just about make out two people in the middle of the circle, on their own dance mat,
facing off against their opponent to the nostalgic tones of Uma Thurman. Around the circle, people
were both cheering on the battling pair, and dancing themselves.

The crowd parted slightly and Adrien was able to peer over to get a better glimpse of the game.

To say his jaw hit the floor would have been an understatement. On the contrary, he was surprised
his jaw hadn’t smashed through the Earth’s crust.

He now understood why people were cheering for the girl on the left, she was absolutely wiping
the floor with her partner. Though the room was bathed in semi-darkness, the glow of the board
created a halo of neon coloured lights around the pair, illuminating their silhouettes. Because of
this, Adrien could see every curve of the girl’s hips as she dipped low, bouncing on the balls of her
feet with all the grace and agility of a certain someone he was trying not to think about in that way.
In an instant Adrien knew the type of DDR player she was- the type with enough skill to actually
dance to the songs along with following the step sequences. Her opponent, the poor guy, didn’t
stand a chance.

“MARI, MARI, MARI!”

The chanting continued, and Adrien found himself staring. Every polite sensibility in him drummed
out due to the beat, and the dancing and oh god this girl had skill.

He told himself it was only her skills he was admiring.

As the song ended, the girl twirled on one foot, her shoulder length hair fanning out around her like
a curtain of living midnight, before landing a perfect combo as her final move. Adrien found
himself whooping and cheering along with the crowd. Somewhere, deep inside him, something
began to stir- something which had laid dormant for a great many years. But the feeling was gone
before he had a chance to pinpoint it and the lights to the room flicked on.

Everyone groaned, shielding their eyes from the fluorescent beams assaulting their senses. One
young woman beside Adrien even hissed, though it was somewhat in jest.

“Ok, ok, easy there, you basement nerds!” the man who’d turned the lights on stepped forwards,
raising his voice above the crowd of, Adrien now realised, about twenty people give or take. “And
give it up for your reigning champion, your President of the Gaming Club, your Marinette Dupain-
Cheng!”

Everyone applauded as the guy, a tall guy with large glasses and headphones around his neck,
raised Marinette’s arm high in the air. Adrien stood on his tiptoes to get a better view, but
Marinette had buried her face in her hands in embarrassment.

“Oh god, Nino, stop,” Adrien just about heard her say, though she was laughing along with
everyone else.

Her defeated opposition, huffing for breath, gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Ah you beat me fair and square, Prez!” he chuckled, running his free hand through his sweaty
black hair. “But I’ll get you next time, I was born ready!”

“Next round is in a few minutes, if you wanna put your name forward, drop it in my cap,” the guy
whom Marinette had referred to as Nino, pulled the baseball cap off his head and pockets of people
began to talk amongst themselves. Some moved forward to put their names down for the next
round. Adrien stood towards the back, uncertain where to look or if he should introduce himself to
people.

“Adrien?”

He jumped when someone tapped his shoulder. Turning his head around, his eyes widened when
he came face-to-face with the president of the gaming club.
Marinette smiled warmly, giving him space. Up close he could see how flushed she was from her
last match, along with the freckles on her face. She was also tiny, Adrien was at least a head taller
than her.

He blushed.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but notice you hanging back here! I’m Marinette, president of the Gaming
Club,” she began rambling, her voice rather high in pitch. Adrien chalked it up to the adrenaline of
winning a game. She held out her hand, which Adrien shook. “I noticed you’d signed up for the
club online and I was wondering if you were going to show up tonight! Not that I’m a stalker or
anything- as the president I get updates if someone joins and when you’re a fashion student and
you hear that Adrien Agreste is joining your club, it’s something that catches your eye you know?”

Adrien nodded, lips pressed together awkwardly.

SAY SOMETHING. SMILE. DO ANYTHING, his mind yelled at him. Nothing is worse than this.
Just say anything!

“So… you like my dad’s…stuff?”

On second thought, I should have kept my mouth shut.

Adrien fought off a wince, and was glad he did, as Marinette’s eyes lit up and she nodded
vigorously.
“Oh sure, your dad’s been like my idol ever since I was little! I’ve always loved his style,” she
played with the strands of her hair, gazing at the floor. “But I guess you get that a lot huh? You
aren’t here to listen to fangirls gush over your dad’s designs, I’m sure.”

“It’s ok, I don’t mind,” Adrien replied with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Marinette beamed and Adrien suddenly found himself thinking that he’d listen her ‘fangirl gush’
about his father’s designs for days if she smiled like that at him the whole time…wait what?

“You know, I was going to be mean and demand you fight against me in a DDR battle to the
death,” Marinette said, tapping her chin wickedly, “but I’ve decided to be nice. How about a team-
up? I could do with beating the high score. Nino and Lillian currently hold the pairs title and I
think we could take them. What do you say?”

She held up her fist.

“Partners?”

Adrien stared at her, at her closed fist hovering between them, the challenging, playful smirk on her
face, and felt his heart skip a beat.

He swallowed, curling his own hand into a fist and bumping it against hers, feeling a remarkable
sense of déjà vu.

“Partners,” he replied.
Chapter End Notes

Here is is folks! the Older!Chat AU on AO3 as per request! I'm writing, and the
fabulously talented Edendaphne is drawing! This story is our baby ^O^ We'll be
posting both on here and tumblr, but please go follow Eden for more art from the AU
(and myself for sneaky story previews as well as AU headcannons )

New chapter will be out soon!!!

 The Gaming Club Part 2
Chapter Notes

Wow!!! Both Edendaphne and I have been amazed at the feedback we've gotten over
this AU so far!!! Thank you so much guys- may your days be happy and filled with
love \(^_^)/

A quick note to let you know that this fic won't be in chronological order but rather a
series of one/two shots set in this AU. Every time I post a new chapter, the A/N at the
end will let you know what to expect next!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“So, what’ll it be?”

After watching a few rounds of DDR from the side-lines, Marinette finally volunteered herself and
Adrien for the next game. In the interim she made sure he was introduced to a number of her
fellow club members, who all greeted him cheerily. Marinette kept an eye on him, making sure he
was enjoying himself, and was relieved when he seemed to start relaxing. He even cracked a few
jokes, though she couldn’t hear what they were from her spot beside the console set-up. Judging
from the fact that he found Nino’s ‘French Eat Pain for Breakfast’ shirt hilarious, she guessed he
had the same ridiculous humour as the other men in her life.

Boys were weird. But she couldn’t fault them. After all she’d always been a lover of a bad pun
herself.
Adrien was… sweet. Truth be told, he was completely different to how she’d imagined the son of
her idol to be. Aside from his exceedingly good looks, you wouldn’t have been able to tell he was a
former teen heartthrob. He was too humble even, dare she think it, shy. He seemed not to get out
much, which made sense given his post-grad status.

Despite that, Marinette was determined for him to have a good time. After all, she’d been a
member of the Gaming Club since her first year and was incredibly proud of the club it’d become
in the years since. It had taken a lot of hard work on her part, along with her friends’ efforts.
They’d worked as a team and the benefits had sewn themselves into a club where every type of
gamer was welcome and celebrated. It was why one week they could have a DDR competition and
the next week a classic board games night, and the week after that a table top tournament.

“Earth to Mari?”

Marinette blinked, dazed, snapping out of her musings when Nino waved a hand in front of her
face.

“We good to go with the song choice?” Nino asked, waving a controller in his hand. In response,
Marinette clapped a hand to her forehead, eyes swivelling to Adrien. He was on the other side of
the classroom, back turned, as he conversed with a surly, short guy with long black hair. Marinette
recognised him as a second-year student who’d recently joined the club himself.

“Crap I forgot to ask him!” she cursed, “hold the fort for a second Nino?”

“No problem boss!” Nino saluted, almost dropping the controller in the process. Turning away,
Marinette giggled under her breath as she traipsed through the small crowd towards Adrien and the
black-haired guy (what was his name? Tom? Toby? Ted? She was sure it began with a T).

It was as she was a metre away from the pair, awkwardly sandwiched between two girls having a
conversation, that she caught what the black haired second year was saying, and why his face
resembled that of a wet paper towel.

“So, what makes you think you’ll have time for this anyway?” he was saying, arms folded tightly
across his chest.

Adrien shuffled from foot-to-foot and, though Marinette couldn’t see his face, she could tell he was
uncomfortable. Call it instinct.

“Well, I’ve set time for it aside in my schedule,” Adrien replied, his voice far too guilt-ridden for
Marinette’s liking. “Of course there might be some weeks where it’s not possible to come because
of deadlines and stuff but I made the decision earlier that I can’t spend all my time working hard or
I’ll burn out.”

“Uh-huh,” the black-haired guy’s (Terrance? Tony? Seriously what was his name?) tone was so
flat, it could have been used as an ironing board. He rolled his eyes. “Sure, rich boy. You’re all the
same.”

Marinette felt the beginnings of rage flutter in her chest, like a dozen tiny embers ready to converge
into an unstoppable blaze at any moment. She stepped forward, her icy smile a contradiction as
well as a warning.

“Is there are problem here?” she asked, standing by Adrien’s side. He seemed startled by her
sudden appearance, but didn’t say a word beyond that. Perhaps he was trying to prevent a scene,
unaware that Marinette had a fair idea what had been going on.

“Nothing, we were having a conversation,” Black-Haired Guy replied with a shrug. “It baffles me,
is all, how rich assholes like this-” he gestured with his thumb towards Adrien- “can get away with
slacking off on something like a PhD. Guess it must be easy to not take life seriously when you
have all the money in the world right?”

The embers in Marinette’s chest roared to life and her hands curled into fists. Her gut reaction was
to kick this guy’s ass to the curb, and if she’d been a little younger and more rash, that would have
been her course of action.

But she was older now. She wasn’t a dumb sixteen-year-old just getting used to having
superpowers. No. She was a young woman with responsibilities, and a reputation she was trying to
build outside of her Ladybug persona.

So she tried a different approach. A quiet, seething sort of anger.

“Look Tim-” she began, her voice dripping with venom. As predicted, he didn’t heed the sharpness
in her tone.

“My name is Lloyd,” he corrected with a scowl.

“Listen Todd,” she countered, making it very clear she didn’t give a damn what his name was, “if
you want to be part of this club, you better start treating your fellow members with the respect they
deserve. I mean who do you think you are to judge Adrien just because he’s wealthier than you?
Nothing gives you the right to make such snide comments and, to be honest, I don’t want that kind
of attitude in a club I’m president of. So either buck up or get out.”

Lloyd’s scowl deepened, his lips curled as he looked from Adrien’s surprised face, to Marinette’s
angry one.

There was a tense moment of silence before any of them said anything. Those nearby had turned to
watch the drama unfold.

“Fine, whatever, I didn’t want to be part of a club ran by a dumb fake girl gamer who lets rich
assholes in anyway,” Lloyd snarled, spinning on his heel and stomping away, cursing as he left.

Marinette almost saw red. Almost. Admittedly, the fake-gamer comment struck her ego and struck
it hard. She wanted nothing more than to drag Lloyd back into the room and let rip all her righteous
fury towards him Ladybug-style. But her anger was trumped by a greater need so, instead, she
closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

“You ok?” Adrien asked.

Marinette’s eyes flew open, her eyebrows raised high.

“Am I ok?!” she spluttered, shaking her head in disbelief, “what about you?! That guy- he just- I
mean he totally- UGH!”

“Yeah I know,” Adrien rubbed the back of his head with a chuckle, somehow understanding her
nonsensical sentence. “I get that more often than you’d think. It’s not great but… I handle it you
know? You just gotta rise above it. Besides, these people don’t know the real me so- yeah.”

He dropped his hand, looking at her with a warm smile, the same smile he’d given her when they
fist bumped earlier.

“Thanks though- for defending me. That was… nice.”

Marinette felt her heartbeat quicken and a part of her, a very small part, thought that it might be
nice indeed- to get to know Adrien a little better.

The image of a black-clad superhero filled her mind, a charming smile, a cheeky wink, a
determined catlike gaze reminding her who held her heart- who’d held her heart for four whole
years. Even if he’d never love her in return.

Her heartbeat slowed again and she patted Adrien on the arm. Friendly. Safe. Easy. It was better
that way. Besides, Adrien could have his pick of anyone on campus. The guy practically had his
own fan club, and Marinette had never heard of him so much as looking at another girl, even
though he could’ve chosen anyone. What chance could she have even if she wanted to pursue
something?

It was a non-starter. She couldn’t fall for another person so utterly out of her reach. Not again. No
matter how cute or sweet he was.

“OK!” Nino’s voice called out through the din, breaking through Marinette’s internal monologue
for the second time that night. She glanced up at Adrien, who was giving her a strange look, before
she realised her had was still on his arm. Withdrawing it quickly, she turned her back on him with a
red face. Way to be weird Mari. “ARE YOU ALL READY FOR THE FINAL DANCE OF THE
NIGHT?”

The rest of the Gaming Club cheered and Marinette was relieved for the distraction. She beckoned
Adrien to follow her and the pair made their way through the crowd to their dance mats.

“I got bored of waiting so I picked the song for you, hope that’s ok!” Nino grinned, shooting finger
guns to the both of them. Rolling her eyes, Marinette took the dance mat on the right, closest to the
desk Nino was half-hidden behind whilst Adrien took the mat by her side. “The fact you’re trying
to take mine and Lillian’s high score had absolutely nothing to do with it. I totally didn’t select one
of the hardest songs on here.”
“Sounds like you’re threatened by us, dude.”

Nino’s jaw dropped and when Marinette glanced over to the side, she understood why. All traces of
the shy, withdrawn Adrien had vanished. Instead, the smirk on his face was downright cocky. His
eyes glistened. The look sent a pleasant thrill right up her spine and she grinned back at Nino.

“Don’t worry, Nino, was it?” Adrien went on with a carless flick of his wrist, “it’s not like I’ve had
a DDR machine in my bedroom since I was thirteen or anything- or that I was obsessed with it for
years. Not at alllll.”
He turned to Marinette and winked. A few seconds later he seemed to realise what he did. The shy
Adrien was back and he stared at his feet, face aflame.
Marinette poked her tongue out at Nino, motioning for him to start the round.

This was going to be fun.

As the music started, Marinette fought hard not to laugh at the sheer irony of Nino’s choice. She
remained silent instead, getting her head in the game. After all, it would be hard to explain the
reason why she found his choice of song (Butterfly by Smile) so funny was because once upon a
time, butterflies were part of her daily life in the form of akuma.

The first few step-prompts appeared on the screen. Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right. It
was easy, a slow pace, and both Marinette and Adrien were able to keep up. But Marinette knew
when the beat dropped, all hell would break loose.

She waited, following the slow steps, her partner copying in perfect sync. Behind her, people
cheered and yelled support. Marinette blocked it all out.

There was only the music, the mat, and her partner by her side.

The beat dropped.

It was like an explosion of energy. Both Marinette and Adrien’s footsteps doubled to keep up with
the insane number of combos, their score increasing with each ‘PERFECT’ or ‘GREAT’ step.
Blood rushed to her ears, pumped through her as the intense part of the song ended and the verse
began, a little slower, and she had a moment to collect herself.

Adrien was laughing, breathlessly. It caught her off guard, yet she still didn’t miss a single step.
The laughter was contagious however, and soon she found herself giggling too. She leaned her
torso towards him, flicking her hair as she did a double-arrow combo and he copied her hair flick
with their next combo move- acting as every bit as dramatic and posturing as she’d expected a
model to be.

Tears of laughter pooled in her eyes.

As the song neared its end, and the arrows began to slow once more, a wild idea shot through
Marinette’s mind. It was risky, but damn would it give them a lot of bragging points if they pulled
it off. She just needed Adrien to be on the same wavelength.

The next time a one-foot arrow popped up on screen, Marinette dipped low, using her agility to
half-shimmy onto Adrien’s mat, simultaneously completing the move for both herself and Adrien.

In the split second before she was fully back on her mat, Marinette felt the heat radiating from
Adrien’s chest, and was consumed by a feeling of utter rightness- of perfect synchronicity.
Somehow, she knew Adrien felt the same, because when she dared to tear her eyes from the screen
for a moment (during a two-step combo they held for a few beats), he was smiling at her.

She bobbed her head in a silent question and he responded with a twinkle in his eye. If Marinette
hadn’t been so completely taken by the game, she might have questioned how two people who’d
just met could work so harmoniously- as though they’d known each other their whole lives.

The final combo of the game arrived and, without even pausing to think, Marinette and Adrien
grabbed each-other’s hand, gripping tight and tugging. Using the momentum, the pair did matching
leaps, switching mats just in time to land the final move perfectly, twisting so they were back-to-
back in a perfect ending pose.

And with that, the Gaming Club exploded.

People began to scream, stamping their feet, arms raised as the whooped and cheered both
Marinette and Adrien’s name. When the score loaded, indicating that they had indeed beaten the
high score, Marinette leapt in the air, arms above her head.

“We did it!” she called above the din, half-gasping for breath.

Adrien was beaming again, grinning from ear-to-ear. His chest was rising and falling heavily and
his cheeks were dangerously red, but he looked as happy as Marinette felt.

“Yeah! We did!” he chirped as the cheering died down and people began to walk up,
congratulating them, before heading back home for the night.

“Dudes! I’m not even mad that was the most insane thing I’ve ever seen!” Nino cried, hurrying
over to them both when most people had left. He lifted an open palm to Adrien. “You guys were
awesome!”

“Yeah, we made a pretty good team,” Adrien replied, smacking his palm against Nino’s whilst
looking at Marinette again. He was wearing that same expression, the one she couldn’t place, as
though he was considering something she’d never be able to fathom. In response, Marinette smiled
shyly.

No. Bad. Not shy. Don’t be shy. Shy means you like him and you absolutely can’t like him.

“So!” Marinette chuckled far too loudly for it to be genuine, stretching her suddenly aching limbs,
“Nino! We better get started on tidying this stuff up of we’ll be here all night.”

Stepping off Adrien’s dance mat, Marinette rushed back towards the computer- where the console
was hooked up. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite looking where she was going, and her legs tangled
up in the jumble of wires. Before she could stop herself, she fell to the ground with an unholy
screech, landing on the floor in tangle of limbs and wired.

Adrien rushed forwards.

“Oh my gosh, are you ok?!”

He offered her a hand up, and she took it, scowling at Nino- who was howling with laughter.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just clumsy when I’m away from a DDR mat,” she grumbled, raising her eyebrow
at Nino. “Are you done?”

“It was funny when we were kids and it’s funny now,” Nino replied wiping the tears from his eyes.

Marinette pouted.

Ignoring her annoyance, Nino faced Adrien instead. “Anyways we’re going to see you next week,
right?”

For some strange reason, the question made Marinette nervous. Playing with the ribbons in her
hair, she tried (and failed) to give off an air of nonchalance. Her stomach clenched, hoping Adrien
had had fun enough to erase the earlier encounter with Lloyd from his mind. Mild attraction or not,
 he was cool, and she wanted to see him back.

His eyes were back on her- the blush on his cheeks not yet faded, a few strands of his pushed-back
hair damp with sweat, and Marinette swallowed, eyes wide and full of hope. Her playing with her
hair ribbons faltered, pausing completely when Adrien turned back to Nino to give him his answer.

“Definitely,” he replied.

Chapter End Notes

So this is the end of The Gaming Club arc- aka the "how they met" arc
The next update will be on February 14th...geee....I wonder what you can expect then?
*sneeze*Marichat*coughs*
Hehehe *runs away*

P.S Edendaphne and I will be posting mini comics/mini drabbles on our tumblrs so
please follow us there too if you wish to see those >.
 Valentine's Day
Chapter Notes

I must say Edendaphne really outdid herself with the art for this chapter! I was
UNPREPARED

Enjoy lovelies! We've been so excited to share this with you! ^O^

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Valentine’s day.

The day of lovers, the day of romance and confessions; the one day a year when hearts decorated
the streets, the scent of flowers and cheap chocolates floating down the university halls until one
felt like they might choke on it. Around the campus, vendors set up shop for the day, selling
overpriced holiday merchandise in the valid hopes of catching some forgetful patrons looking for a
quick last-minute gift for their beaus.

Adrien Agreste was aware of the fact that Valentine’s day was a day most sexually active people,
for want of a better phrase, engaged in…amorous activities. Secretly, he’d always hoped to be
amongst those people. After all, it was pretty pathetic for a twenty-four-year-old man to have never
had a girlfriend on Valentine’s day (not even a date). No matter how much Nino tried to convince
him otherwise, and the fact that deep down he knew it wasn’t really a big deal, the romantic in him
yearned to spend the day with someone special to him.

In hindsight, he should have been careful what he wished for, because today had crept up on him
and he was- in fact- not engaged in amorous activities.

He was, however, totally screwed.

And no, not in the good way. For Adrien Agreste was in love. Utterly and incomprehensibly in
love.

The problem?

His love interest had no idea. Nor did she return his feelings.

Adrien sighed, head between his hands, as he sat nestled amongst piles of books and notes at the
back of the school library. Marinette had just stopped by to offer him a smile and coffee before her
fashion history class began. The gesture, filling him with a warmth which rivalled said coffee, was
both welcomed and lamented. He’d been hoping to avoid her for most of the day.

Four months. Four months since that fateful evening he’d joined Marinette’s Gaming Club. Four
months since they’d danced together and shattered a high score which had yet to be broken.

Four months.

Adrien couldn’t help but think Cupid had started his work earlier than usual, because he’d been
smitten since the moment he’d seen her. Once a week since that night (barring a few times Adrien
had to miss due to deadlines and the Christmas break) Adrien had made his way to room 03B,
having more fun than he’d had in years, playing whatever game they’d voted for. It didn’t matter
what they were playing, what mattered to him was that Marinette was by his side the entire time
and, more often than not, she was.

They really did make a good team. In fact- they were practically unbeatable whenever they were
paired together. As a result, they got a reputation for being an unstoppable duo- ready to face
whoever challenged that title. Many did. Many failed. But it was all in good spirits, friendly
competition. Marinette was a good peace-keeper.

For the first time in his life, Adrien felt as though he’d carved out a place in the world that was
truly meant for him- at least his civilian self anyway. Quicker than he’d been able to process it,
both Marinette and Nino especially had become ever-present entities in his life, as though they’d
always been there. Nino, with his boundless optimism, carried him through the moments where it
felt like his work would never end, and often dragged him away from said work for much needed
cookie breaks. Marinette, too, helped but in different ways. Her method of cheering him on was
much subtler; a quick visit to his office after his TA hours- clad with treats from her parents’
bakery, sending him funny memes, knitting him things like the scarf she’d made him for
Christmas, little things that which made his day so much brighter.

He looked forward to their meetings as much as the freedom of his patrols with Ladybug. That
particular realisation had rocked him to his core.

It hadn’t taken him long to realise he was in love. Plagg, in fact, was the one to point it out. He’d
made many a joke about Marinette being his girlfriend and, after the millionth-time Adrien had
corrected him, something finally clicked in Adrien’s brain.
No, she wasn’t his girlfriend. But he wanted her to be.

Which led him to his current dilemma- how to get through the day without accidentally confessing
and ruining the best thing that had happened to him since Hawkmoth’s defeat two years previous.

But still, Adrien thought as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the panelled ceiling, he wanted
to do something. He had a catch-up session with his supervisor and then he had to do a little PR for
the Valentine’s photoshoot he’d modelled for. Aside from the seemingly endless pile of reading to
do, he also had to come up with a plan for doing something for Valentine’s day without it looking
like it was something romantic.

Why am I such a scaredy-cat?

Sitting up, he took a sip of his gifted coffee through gritted teeth, attempting to come up with a
solution.

A gift would be too obvious, a friendly greeting not enough, running across the campus rom-com
style to sweep her off her feet would be amazing- but it would probably earn him a punch. He’d
seen Marinette’s anger and never, ever wanted to be on the receiving end of it, even if her anger
was usually on the behalf of someone else’s misfortune (one of the reasons he loved her to be
honest).

In any case, he wasn’t the type to kiss a girl unless he was absolutely sure they wanted it too- and
Marinette didn’t. They were just friends and she treated him as such.

He tried to ignore the painful tug on his heart at the thought.

God! Why was this so hard? All he wanted to do was something nice for the girl he loved on
Valentine’s day! He wanted her to know she was loved. He wanted her to smile. He wanted her to
be happy regardless of whether or not it was with him or-

Wait.

Adrien lurched forwards, almost spilling his coffee. He scarcely noticed, as an idea was forming in
his mind…

Without stopping to question whether or not this was a wise decision, Adrien pulled out his phone,
quickly typing out a text to Nino.

Adrien: Hey bro, hope you and Alya have a good Valentine’s! On a totally unrelated note, do
you know Marinette’s address?

***

The blanket wrapped around Marinette’s shoulders didn’t do much to shield her from the bitter air
which surrounded her balcony, but she didn’t mind too much.

Nursing a mug of chamomile tea in her hands, she huffed, reclining in her chair, and stared at the
dark sky above. Her breath fogged the air and a melancholy cloud consumed her heart. She did her
best to guard against the rain which threatened to fall there, but no umbrella could shield her from
this particular type of downpour.

Another Valentine’s day, another day of cowardice, another day her true feelings for Chat Noir
went unsaid. But he must know? Surely, he must know by now- how much she loved him. It was
so obvious, at least to her anyway.

Over the years, she’d gained a lot of confidence, but wow had that first year had been rough.
Stammering over her words, getting tongue tied, making a total fool of herself on almost every
patrol, these were the things which made up Ladybug’s book on ‘How to Fail at Seducing Your
Superhero Partner and Love of Your Life.’

The fact she’d been sixteen and he’d been twenty didn’t help things really. She’d always known
he’d never go for someone four years younger. It was like having a crush on someone in the final
year of lycée when you yourself were a lowly first year- never going to happen. They’d come a
long way since they met and there were times, especially after their reunion, when she’d thought
he was looking at her differently. They were adults now, both of them, and somewhere deep inside
she wished that would be enough for him to finally see her as someone he could give his heart to.

She’d been giving herself false hope.

“You sure you don’t want to come back inside?”

Glancing at Tikki’s frown, Marinette did her best to shoot her a soft smile, not wanting to worry
her late-night companion.

“I’ll come back down soon Tikki,” she promised, nuzzling her cheek against Tikki’s in comfort,
“as soon as I finish my tea. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll be fine up here by myself.”

Truth be told all Marinette wanted to do was stay up past midnight, just so she could see this
wretched day die.

For a moment, Tikki didn’t move, and Marinette could tell she was at war with her sisterly
instincts. Eventually, however, she acquiesced- leaving Marinette alone with nothing but her
gloomy thoughts and the frosty air biting her extremities.

Or so she thought.

Marinette jumped when she heard a rustling noise from beneath the railing of her balcony. Placing
her mug down on the ground she tensed, hardly daring to breathe as the noise continued.

Her first thought was to call Tikki however, if it was an intruder, she needed to protect her
identity… but how could it be an intruder? No thief would bother scaling her building when they
could simply break the locks on the doors right?

Shaking her head, Marinette took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It was probably an animal like
a bird or something. There was no need to overreact.

Then a hand appeared, a black glove wrapping around one of the iron bars of her balcony railings.

Her heart lurched into her throat. Marinette didn’t think twice before entering full attack-mode.

Grabbing the broom which rested against the wall behind her, Marinette hurried forwards, barely
registering the tall silhouette of the intruder climbing over the railing, before she swung the handle
straight at their head. The bristled end struck true against the intruder’s face and they leapt
backwards with a yelp.

Marinette dropped the broom. It fell to the ground beneath her feet with a loud clatter she barely
registered. Her mouth fell open, her mind screeched to a halt.

She’d recognise that high-pitched squeal anywhere.

“C-Chat Noir?!” she cried and, for one wild moment, she thought he’d figured out her identity.
“What are you doing here?!”

Chat Noir blinked, shaking his head roughly a few times.

It was then that Marinette became acutely aware that she’d smacked the man she’d loved for four
years with a broom.

Although she knew it didn’t hurt, she could help but squeak out a few horrified apologies. Amidst
the panic, a part of her questioned if she hadn’t simply snapped under the pressure of university,
being Ladybug, and of course participating in her own one-sided love story. After all there was no
way he could really be there- she had to be imagining things, right? It was far more likely she was
going mad.

But then Chat stepped to the side, the glow from the mini lanterns on her balcony illuminated his
handsome features and once again Marinette forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to do
anything except stand and stare. Her apologies were lost, like dust in the wind, and she fell silent.
The silence stretched on for an almost painful amount of time, before Chat remembered he was
there for a reason.

“It’s alright,” he reassured her, taking in her expression. She looked…terrified? Nervous?
Unsettled? He couldn’t quite read her emotions but they didn’t seem good. Oh, god this was a
mistake. This was such a mistake. But he’d thought she would be asleep at this point, and she’d
mentioned her balcony as a place of sanctuary in the past, so he was sure she’d check it first thing
in the morning, and find his gift for her there. He hadn’t expected her to actually be there when he
arrived. “At least you didn’t hit me with a vacuum cleaner. That really would have sucked.”

If there was any doubt left that Marinette was dreaming, the terrible pun completely obliterated it.
All at once, the absurdity of the situation came crashing down on her.

Chat was halfway to jumping back over the balcony and disappearing into the night, but was
startled out of his embarrassment when Marinette let out a short giggle.

He smiled, shoulders relaxing as he took in her appearance.

A fluffy blanket rested on the floor a few paces behind her. Chat realised she must have dropped it
when she hit him with the broom. She wore thick leggings, fluffy bed socks, and a deliberately
oversized pink jumper- which was hanging off her exposed shoulders.

She was also looking at him with a curious, dazed expression.

He turned his back to her, trying to regain some semblance of control over his emotions. It was
difficult to say the least. Why, why, why is she so cute? Ugh! Even in comfy clothes, it just makes
me want to cuddle her.

Chat couldn’t remember the last time he cuddled someone. His arms felt heavy and unnatural at his
sides, as though even his limbs were crying out for her embrace- an embrace he couldn’t have.

Whilst his back was turned, he completely missed Marinette frantically running her fingers through
her hair, her quick bra-adjustment, and the way she licked her lips in the absence of any lip gloss.

He looked at the gift for her in his hands. How could he give it to her now?! It wouldn’t make any
sense. As far as she was aware, they’d never met before tonight.

Curse his rotten luck.

“Is something wrong?”

His entire being felt like a firework as Marinette’s hand pressed against his shoulder, and he
swivelled back to face her, completely forgetting he was holding her present in his hand.

He realised, too late, that he was doomed.

Marinette said nothing, but her eyes trailed down to his hand, which was brandishing a single
beautiful red rose. Immediately, a million thoughts and images filled her mind as to who the rose
could be for. None of them were her.

Or maybe someone had given it to him?

She didn’t know which option was worse.

Chat Noir had always been popular with the ladies, probably due to his confidence, wit, and
superhero physique. Marinette tried to reason with herself that he probably got a ton of Valentine’s
gifts from other girls. Besides she’d never seen him flirting with civilians, hopefully he’d just taken
it to be polite?

It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. She inwardly chided herself. After all, Chat wasn’t hers, would
never be with her. He was free to give (or receive) roses to whoever he wanted and it was none of
her business! It didn’t matter. It. Didn’t. Matter.

So why did the sight of that rose make it seem like she’d swallowed all of its thorns at once, each
one lodging painfully in her throat?

“Ah!” Chat cried, his voice piercing the cold night air. “This! This is why I’m here. Y-you see-”
think of an excuse, Agreste. Anything- “Well, I was- was passing by this florist stand. Yeah! And
the old lady who worked there gave this to me. She told me to give it to the most beautiful lady I
saw tonight, before Valentine’s day ended. So umm- well- here-”

He bowed low, holding the flower out towards Marinette, and tried to act like his usual Chat-like
self, but it was difficult when the light made her eyes sparkle like that.

Was he forever cursed to act like a total idiot around this girl?

It took almost a full twenty seconds for Marinette to respond. In that time, she stared at the flower
in front of her, so red and so full, a little red ribbon wrapped into a bow on the stem, and felt her
heart leave her chest and float above the clouds.

“That’s…for me?” she asked, timidly reaching out to grasp the rose. Their fingers brushed, and she
could have sworn she heard him gasp, but that was most likely wishful thinking.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice breathy.

She couldn’t look at him, if she looked then her whole resolve would crumble and she’d either
burst into tears or kiss him senseless. Neither of those things were a great first impression,
considering this was their first meeting (as far as he knew anyway).

Speaking of which-

“Oh, umm, I’m Marinette by the way,” she smiled, somehow finding strength in her own name, as
though it grounded her back to reality. “Thank you- for thinking I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve
seen I guess?”

“Well,” he shrugged, offering a little smile and standing upright again (why did I bow for that
long? Why am I such a dork?) “it’s not like I’ve seen lots of girls tonight to compare.”

Halfway through his sentence, he realised the implications of what he said, and his blood could
have set a world record for the speed at which it drained from his face.

“I mean- not that you aren’t beautiful! I didn’t mean that you’re not beautiful!” he hurried to correct
himself, leaning forward and waving his arms frantically. Marinette simply stared at him. “I just
mean that well- I don’t see a lot of girls- but I know a beautiful girl when I see one even if I don’t
run around chasing girls. I have a tail, I don’t chase tail- I promise I didn’t-”

Chat stopped rambling when Marinette broke down, wrapping her arms around her sides as she
howled with laughter.

He’d never heard her laugh like that before.

I am such a goner.

“Well,” Marinette wheezed, finally calming down, and totally oblivious to the way Chat had been
looking at her, “I definitely believe that. That you don’t chase tail I mean- if this is how you talk to
girls normally!” She fixed Chat with a warm smile. “Don’t worry, by the way. I didn’t think you
were insulting me, and I meant it when I said thank you for the rose. It really is beautiful.”

“Then it’s perfect for you,” Chat replied instantly, without thinking that he shouldn’t be talking to
her like this, without thinking that he shouldn’t be looking at her the way he was, without thinking
full stop.

That was his problem. He couldn’t think around her.

Marinette, too lost to the moment, didn’t think twice about it. All she knew was that it was
Valentine’s day and Chat Noir of all people, had showed up to give her a rose. A very, very lovely
rose. In red. Completely different to the first rose he’d given her as Ladybug.

He’d probably die of embarrassment if he knew she was Ladybug- if the Dark Cupid incident a
few years back was anything to go by.

Maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all.

“Well, I should probably get going, got a long night of catching baddies and not chasing tail you
know?” he laughed, though he had no idea why, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. His
cat ears flicked in response.

“Oh, yeah of course!” Marinette nodded, hopefully sounding cheerful despite not wanting him to
leave. Still, she wouldn’t be greedy, she had proof he found her beautiful- BEAUTFUL HE
BASICALLY SAID I’M BEAUTIFUL- and that was more than enough for now.

It was a start.

Still, she thought as she watched him slowly climb back over the railing, she wanted to do
something in return. For him. But what?

An idea struck. At best- it was silly, at worst it was horrendously reckless, but Marinette was
feeling quite daring after the ego boost from his gift, and with that daringness came impulsiveness.

Marinette was an overthinker by nature. She thought, and thought, and thought. Sometimes she just
wanted her brain to shut up for a few moments and allow her emotions to take over.

This was one of those times.

She leaned forwards, lips puckered, as she aimed for his cheek. It was a simple cheek kiss, it didn’t
have to mean anything. People kissed each other’s cheeks all the time- they were French for god’s
sake. She’d done more with Alya!

What she didn’t account for, however, was Chat turning his head at the last second, eyes widening
when he saw how close she was getting. But Marinette had already closed her eyes. It was too late.

Without any warning on either of their parts, their lips met.

Marinette froze, her rational mind bursting out of the cage she’d briefly locked it in to yell WHAT
THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! STOP! PULL BACK!

And though her mind was screaming at her, Marinette couldn’t move, every muscle in her body
seized up. Her heart thrummed wildly in her chest.
This is not what was supposed to happen! Pull back! Apologise! RIGHT NOW!

After a few seconds of brief searing panic, Marinette’s eyes flew open, just in time to see Chat
closing his as he pressed his lips into hers.

She almost died.

Was he- was he- kissing her back?

Chat tilted his head so that he could deepen the kiss and, just like that, Marinette’s resolve
crumbled. Closing her eyes, she too stepped closer into him, daring to raise her hands and place
them on his waist, gently, shyly… It was ok to do so right? After all he was kissing her just as
much as she was kissing him. This was ok wasn’t it?

Her mind drew a blank, even her rational thoughts quietened under the weight of her longing.
Because she’d wanted this since the moment she realised she loved him, and now he was here and
he was kissing her, and she felt more alive than she’d done in years.

It was a kiss full of tenderness, and far too much feeling for it to have made any sense. Both of
them were absolutely sure that they were imagining things, that their souls were searching for
meaning where there was none.

Yet neither of them could pull away. In fact, they leaned closer.

Chat was stuck between heaven and hell, knowing that the kiss was by accident but unable to help
kissing back even if it had been a matter of life and death. Every fibre of his being awoke at her
touch, like she was breathing air back into the lungs of a dying man.

Truthfully, she was.

One of his hands let go of the railing, reaching up to caress her cheek. This was a dream, wasn’t it?
He’d fallen asleep before he’d left his house and never made it to her balcony to leave the rose.

Whether it was a dream or not, Chat knew he was on borrowed time. The moment was not to last,
and so he was going to commit every sense to memory. Her taste, her touch, her scent, the little
sounds she was making, all of it.

The tragic part was that it made him love her more.

Realising he was in love with her was like the beginning notes to a piano medley he once had to
learn; single notes played one after another, chordless, isolated yet beautiful and full of hope. This
was different. Here, the notes aligned, chords nestled together in perfect harmony and everything
felt so right that it was downright heart breaking to silence their love song before it had a chance to
properly begin.

But silencing it was a must.

Eventually they had to break apart for air. Their noses brushed as they opened their eyes, looking
at each other.

With that, the spell broke.

“Oh, oh my god! Sorry, I-” Marinette stammered, stumbling away from him, “I was just going to
kiss you on the cheek- I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s ok don’t worry,” Chat replied, leaning backwards so that he was hanging out towards the
street, the hand which had been on Marinette’s cheek flexed, missing her. He placed it back on the
railing, knowing if he didn’t he’d probably fall off the edge- he was certainly lightheaded enough
to do something so catastrophically uncool. “I- I didn’t mind.”

You didn’t MIND? He yelled at himself, cringing, as Marinette buried her burning face in her hands
with a groan. What is the matter with you? You just kissed the girl of your dreams and the first
thing you say is that you don’t mind?! You are going to die alone!

“Well, I should go,” he said, not wanting to embarrass himself further.

Marinette, too caught up in the fact that they’d kissed, nodded in response. However, she didn’t
notice Chat hopping back over her balcony until she felt something warm drape across her
shoulders.

Taking her hands away from her eyes, Marinette looked up curiously, and nearly had a heart attack
when she saw Chat standing right in front of her. He’d picked up her blanket, and was currently in
the process of wrapping it around her shoulders. His fingers ghosted against her skin, causing her to
completely forget the cold, and she realised his hands were shaking.

Or perhaps she only thought that because she herself couldn’t stop trembling- in a way that had
nothing to do with the cold.

Chat swallowed thickly, staring into her impossibly blue eyes- almost getting lost in them. He
couldn’t, wouldn’t, look at her lips. If he did, he’d kiss her again, only this time there’d be no
excuses.

Somehow, through the haze, he was able to speak.

“Make sure you stay warm, Princess,” he whispered, accidentally letting slip the secret nickname
 he’d given her. “Don’t want you Chat-ching a cold.”

The tension hanging between them cracked slightly, and Marinette smiled, clutching the blanket
tightly with her free hand, just as Chat let go. God help him though, he couldn’t help but let his
fingers trail in the loose tendrils of her hair one last time.

“I will,” she replied, her voice matching his in softness, the nickname not registering in her mind
quite yet. “Promise.”

Chat nodded, unable to say another word. Before he could mess up the moment further he winked,
turning tail and disappearing into the night.

When he was gone, Marinette collapsed into the chair, eyes wide as she stared up at the sky again.
Her heart beat wildly, blood roared in her ears, and she was left wondering.

Did that just happen?

Chapter End Notes

Happy Valentine's Day! <3

The next 2 chapters will be a flashback! It's origins time! After all we've seen Adrien
fall for Marinette but how did LB fall for Chat? Also it's fun to leave you all on a
cliffhanger for the Valentine's day arc (which we'll be getting back to after Origins)
bwahahahaha >:3
 Valentine's Day Part 2
Chapter Notes

Hi guys! Both Eden and I are super sorry this took so long D: life, commissions, and
writers block got in our way!

Originally we were going to start working on Origins but we decided we kept you
waiting with this Valentine's day cliffhanger that we decided you guys waited long
enough hehe! So enjoy Valentine's Day Part 2! Hope you like
it!!!...In...April....ehehehe ^_^;

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling
her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having
already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and
leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a
therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a
way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring
Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to
bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a
challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly
creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never
said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing
nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise,
sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s
stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards
her.

“I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean
I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out
harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette
blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d
stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips
thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not
freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding
her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and
hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’
Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her
chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the
chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The
sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was
seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As
her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic,
the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window,
to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat
Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it
was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he
dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had
finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely
comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside
considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an
accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory,
playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant
inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what
she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing
in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a
little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk
chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having
thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s
loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.
Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly
clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little
better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair,
tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair.
Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t
talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The
notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into
a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which
had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was
probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as
though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the
vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she
teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.
Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her
right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome
distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from
happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their
usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his
usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers
gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly
kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start
rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an
instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his
stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally
moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of
Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking
her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the
rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from
a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have
anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that
Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like
he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips.
He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to
splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-
needed clarity.
It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved
to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d
gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into
the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered
over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature
Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had
completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was
a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next
to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it
normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue
the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified.
Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an
easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task
did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was
about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled
him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his
jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him.
It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at
her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not
looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good!
How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good
Valentine’s day?”
WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why
would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded
insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was
surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her
encounter with Chat Noir. His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of
word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell
anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see
shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead.
Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was
going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in
the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a
welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of
course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet
Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden
symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous-
forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could
ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness
to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they
always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently
overheating him.
He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and
he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would
strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart...

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness
of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in
her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was
thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain
hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the
unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-
old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in
the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not
even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her
heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would
save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into
existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot
and tumbling to the ground.
“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist,
the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly
felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An
involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.
Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements,
casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I
shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It
was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as
though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with
no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing
her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other
reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her
face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her
hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was
teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone
before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do
have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her
voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead.
Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled
at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how
Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible
impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched
onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around
herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I
don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about
me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he
wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without
revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too
afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.
Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could
be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was
behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his
broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero
status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he
wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his
resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave
before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?”
Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again
Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands
behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts,
and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad
light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not
the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to
Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession
before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once-
from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained
unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind
screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It
was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what
was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved
him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the
raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached
out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to
breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just
that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.
Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned;
owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched
him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled
in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together
again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands
to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s
mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her
sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to
please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.
She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her
throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his
throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it
so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was
reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped
the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his
movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his
shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.
 He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-
burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring
themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was
addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning
and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, "May I see
you tomorrow night, Princess?"

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned
beneath their feet.

"Yes," she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

Chapter End Notes

I'm just gonna go die now omg... Eden's art always kills me dead! I actually caught
myself staring too hard when I was formatting the chapter! Lol!

I'm going to try replying more to comments because you always write such nice things
>.< I just get a bit shy. Sorry!

Next chapter= This AU's version of Evillustrator (did someone say long haired Nath?
Heck yes!)

Eden and I love talking about our AU and other projects so as always, here's where
you can find us!

Find me on tumblr here: Midnightstarlightwrites

Find Eden on tumblr here: Edendaphne

 Evillustrator Part One
Chapter by edelet, EdenDaphne (edelet), midnightstarlightwrites

Chapter Notes

^O^ We're back with the Evillustrator arc! It's a 3-parter! EEEEE!

Enjoy part one!!!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Chat wrapped his arms around Marinette, pulling her close and sighing when she wiggled back into
his chest. The pair of them were sprawled out on the floor, his sort-of girlfriend between his legs,
trembling slightly.

She nodded, letting her words fall breathlessly between parted lips. “I’m sure.”

Chat buried his face in the crook of her neck, placing a casual kiss to her shoulder. Honestly, this
hadn’t been the way he thought their date would go, but he was thrilled nonetheless, surprised yet
pleased. Apprehensive too, of course, but he was trying not to show it. Marinette responded by
reaching up to scratch his ear, and he nipped her playfully, hoping to alleviate the tension hanging
in the air.

She inhaled sharply, and Chat couldn't help the low hum of pleasure at the way her breath caught
because of him.

“You can always back out you know,” he began, sounding a bit pathetic even to his ears. “You
don’t have to-”

“What the priest says goes, you know there’s no turning back now,” Marinette interrupted softly,
more out of nerves than anything.

Chat snorted. “Yeah! ‘Cause we totally should listen to a deranged priest when we could easily
jump out of the window right?”

“Hush, Kitty, I’m busy trying not to die,” she chided, un-pausing the game and nudging the
character (a nosy journalist investigating an abandoned insane asylum that turned out to be not-so-
abandoned after all) through an open door. “I hope that creepy large dude doesn’t come back to kill
me.”

“Don’t worry, Princess,” Chat smirked with more bravado than he felt. “I’ll protect you.”

It was at that point that said ‘creepy large dude’ appeared from the corner, the game music
intensified, and Chat let out an unholy shriek, gripping onto Marinette’s shoulders for dear life.
“Marinette?” Sabine called from downstairs, causing both of them to freeze like the ending shot of
an old sitcom. “Is everything ok? We heard you scream.”

“Err- f-fine Mama!” Marinette cried back, shaking with effort not to laugh, and Chat felt heat creep
up his face. “Just a scary part of my game! I’ll try keeping it down!”

She paused the game, silent for a few moments, the control clutched so tightly in her hand that
Chat feared she might break it in two. He sighed, hiding his face in her hair and mumbling a
resigned, "go ahead, I deserve it."

Marinette burst out laughing, dropping the controller to squeeze his hands in her own. Despite his
embarrassment, Chat's heart flipped traitorously at the sound. He did so love her laugh. A long
time ago, he’d heard of the term 'music to my ears' but it was only recently that he truly understood
it.

She was so lovely, and her laugh only made her lovelier.

"Oh my god kitty, you're worse than Adrien!" Marinette wheezed, and Chat was instantly brought
out of his love-struck musings, her words dousing him in ice-water and making his blood run cold.
Where previously his heart had been re-enacting its own version of cirque-du-soleil, it was now
deadly still, silent and grave-like. "He was so freaked out earlier when we all tried this game I
thought he was going to break Nino's arm off!"

But it was always like this, had been like this, since that fated Valentine's day two months previous.
Marinette often talked about her friends, about her life, about the Gaming Club and, by extension,
him too. Though she remained blissfully unaware of that fact.
All he could do is talk about Ladybug and, although it must've been exciting for Marinette to hear
first-hand accounts of all their superhero misadventures, they weren't exactly on equal footing in
terms of things they could share. Marinette didn't seem to mind, but that still didn't stop the guilt
churning and twisting his guts every time she mentioned his alter-ego.

He laughed once, a desperately false sound despite his best efforts, and leaned back to his normal
sitting position. Once again Marinette rested against his chest, and he was altogether glad that she
couldn't see his face at that moment in time. He was an open book when it came to her, at least
emotionally. He always would be.

"I guess we can't all be brave warrior princesses like you," he smiled, curling a lock of her hair
around his finger idly, wondering what it would be like to touch it without the gloves as a barrier.

Marinette sighed, a gesture which made her shoulders slump and, before Chat could reach out for
her, she pulled away. Shuffling towards the monitor, she flicked it off, her head bowed. Were it not
for his super-hearing, Chat might've missed the way she whispered, "I'm not as brave as you think."

Suddenly, Chat felt awkward, sitting there in such a casual position when Marinette appeared to be
in the midst of an internal dilemma, so he rose to his feet. He wasn't sure what caused her change
in mood, if he was to blame or not, but he hoped to help somehow… despite the fact that his legs
felt like there were about to melt off.

He was just about to ask her what she meant, do whatever he could in his power to make her
believe that she was as brave as he knew she was, when she fixed him with a piercing gaze. The
shock of her blue eyes, staring at him like a sea before the storm, rendered him mute. She looked
away again, biting her lip.

"Chat?" she said finally. "I have a problem."

At once his brain exploded with infinite possibilities. First came the protective side- oh god who's
hurt her? is someone bothering her? Can I help? Is she upset? Then came the fear- is she upset
with me?! What did I do?! Ok, I've done lots of stuff- but what did I do SPECIFICALLY that she's
upset with? After that was the mind-numbing panic- GET READY TO BEG FOR FORGIVENESS!
YOU'RE A FRAUD AND A LIAR AND SHE KNOWS AND SHE HATES YOU. JUST SAY SORRY
AND LEAP OUT OF THE WINDOW NOW BEFORE YOU FACE HER WRATH. RUN FRAIDY
CAT! RUN!

Each and every one of these mental acrobatics occurred within the first five seconds after
Marinette had spoken.

Deciding it would be best not to speak, Chat nodded once, closing the gap between them-
simultaneously scared for himself and worried about Marinette. He faltered a few steps before her,
wanting to reach out but afraid to cross that line. After all, if her problem was with him she'd hardly
want to be touched by him... right?

But, as usual, Marinette seemed to sense his trepidation. Reaching out, she grasped both of his
hands, cradling them in her own and Chat let out a sigh of relief.

"Our relationship... I... I love-" Marinette hesitated, looking down, and Chat's eyes widened. His
heart leapt into his throat before crashing down again when she continued her sentence- "I love
what we have going on. With us, I mean. We've gotten to know each other really well. But- but
I'm not an idiot or anything! I know, like, because of who you are, we can't be open about it with
other people. A-and I'm not asking for anything more! No, nothing like that! It's just uuuugh why
is this so difficult?"
She dropped his hands, turning away with a groan of frustration as she waved her arms in the air,
flailing, floundering, and all Chat could do was watch helplessly.

"Princess?" he whispered, wishing he had something better to say, more words of comfort. In an
ideal world, he'd simply take the stupid ring off his finger and just be done with it all.

But that was reckless even by his standards.

Marinette sighed, wrapping her arms around herself as she twirled to face him, looking him in the
eyes once more. There was no lie in them, just steely determination.

"I'm just going to go ahead and say it. I got asked out on a date today."

Huh. Chat suddenly understood what the journalist from the game must've felt like when the scary
guy caught him and ripped out his guts.

"He's a really nice guy and we've been friends for a long time," Marinette continued, unknowingly
twisting the knife deeper. "But I.... I can't do it because it would feel like a lie. I'm with you, even
if we're not anything that can be labelled. I don't know, it feels dishonest somehow. What do you
think?"

Chat swallowed, his throat tight, his mind reeling. What did he think? She was asking him what he
thought about the possibility of her, the girl he loved, going on a date with someone else? Of
course she had no idea about the depths of his feelings, because he'd never told her but that wasn’t
the point. She was asking him about dating someone else…

It would feel like a lie, it would feel dishonest, she had said.

Marinette hated liars. That was one of the first facts he'd learned about her when they’d started
getting to know each other back at university.

"I... think," he uttered, stopping in an attempt to control his breathing, to alleviate the wavering in
his voice. "I think that I care about you, I love... I love being with you like this.” Coward! “But I
know that it would be wrong for me to stop you from going on dates, if that's what would make
you happy? I don't know, Mari."

Well at least he could be honest there. He didn't know what to do. It would be controlling, cruel
and hypocritical of him to tell her he hated the idea of her going on dates with someone else,
holding hands with someone else, kissing someone el-

No. No. Don't think about that.

How could he possibly ask her to remain true to him when he couldn't give her more, despite
desperately wanting to?

"If it's what you want, I won't ever stop you," he whispered, stepping forwards to cup her cheek
because oh god he needed to. He need to touch her, he need to remind himself that he could, that he
was allowed to. "I'm not seeing anyone else right now except for you, but I won't ever hold you
back, and I wouldn't ask the same from you because- well- you're right. I can't give you everything
I wish I could."
Marinette's eyes lost the steel, flooded with warmth and something which he couldn't quite fathom.
Yet her smile didn't reach them. She stood up on her toes, and Chat wrapped his arms around her,
kissed her, breathed her in.

"I understand," was all she said in response.

***

Nathanael stood outside the door of the classroom, sketchbook clutched tightly to his chest, fear
clutching tighter than that.

It had been a day since he'd asked Marinette on a date, and he'd still not gotten a response. Granted,
she’d said she'd give him an answer after their shared art class (which lay just beyond the door
beside him) but his nerves had stretched those twenty-four hours into an eternity.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to cross the threshold, into the classroom where he knew Marinette
was already waiting. Forgetting his nerves, he briefly smiled to himself. She'd definitely gotten
better about be late since they’d started university together.
Peeling the sketchbook away from his person, he glanced at the drawing which had taken him
hours to do. It was a simple one, one where he and Marinette were dressed as superheroes of his
own design. He'd drawn it weeks ago, and wanted to give it to her as a gift but was too nervous
until she gave him an answer.

He sighed, resting his head against the wall, the half-open door mocking him. Despite knowing
Marinette for many years, it was only recently that his feelings began to change. It was just a crush,
he knew that, but he was trying to be more open with his emotions recently and the inner romantic
in him wondered if it might become something more with time. Friends-to-lovers was always a
popular romantic theme in the comics he loved so much after all.

"Are you SERIOUS right now?"

Nathanael jumped at the sound of someone yelling, coming from inside the room. Deciding he'd
rather not interrupt whatever was going on (gosh wouldn't that be awkward?) he hovered outside
the classroom instead, dithering.

Unfortunately, that meant unintentional eavesdropping. He glanced over his shoulder, nervously
checking for other students and finding none lining up yet. Maybe they were still outside enjoying
the first taste of spring, maybe he should do the same-

"I know ok?! You don't think I don't know how crummy this whole thing is?"

Nathanael stalled, just as he was beginning to walk away and offer privacy to those who were
using their empty classroom as a chance to vent personal problems. That had sounded like
Marinette...
"Girl," the first voice spoke again, less angry this time, and Nathanael recognised the owner as
Alya- one of Marinette's closest friends. "I honestly don't know what to say right now. So… he said
it was ok for you to see other guys? To date Nath?"

Nathanael's heart skipped a beat. Guilt and adrenaline pumped through his veins like poison, but
he remained frozen to the spot. Was Marinette seeing someone?

"Yeah. That’s basically it. I don’t know what I was thinking! Maybe he doesn't like me as much I
wanted him to? God I'm such an idiot Alya!" Marinette wailed. "I thought- I guess- I hoped that if I
brought up that Nath asked me out that he might... I don't even know, fight for me I guess? I mean,
don't get me wrong, Nath and I are so close but I could never date him- not when I'm in love with
someone else. And I thought he would get that but he didn't!"

The sketchbook mocked him, the smiling faces of his and Marinette's superhero-forms seemed to
twist before his eyes. Nathanael bowed his head, tears pooling in his eyes, don't cry, don't cry,
don't cry...

It was no use. Who was he fooling really? Of course Marinette was in love with someone else. It
made sense. They were just friends, that's all they'd ever be.

That's all he'd ever be to anyone.

Trying not to crumple like the bristles of a broken paintbrush, Nathanael hurried away, desperate to
get home. He could skip class just this once, just for today. He could handle Marinette's rejection
another time, respect her decision and move on, once he pulled himself together.

But, as he left the building, he failed to notice the dark wings of a butterfly following him on his
way home…

Inside the classroom, Alya was sitting cross-legged on the professor’s desk, nursing a to-go coffee
in her hands and frowning down at Marinette, who was currently face-down against her own desk.
"You're going to get drool on your sketchbook," she teased, trying to alleviate the tension hanging
in the air.

"Add it to the list of stupid problems I have because I can't control my own life and I'm a massive
idiot," came Marinette's muffled response.

Casting a raised eyebrow to Tikki, who smiled sympathetically at her, Alya huffed. In one graceful
movement, she hopped off the desk, and sat in the chair opposite Marinette’s.

Tikki was the first to break the silence. "It is kind-of a messy situation to be sure. But I think
maybe if you talked to him-"

"And tell him what Tikki?" Marinette groaned, sitting up sharply. "That I've been his partner this
whole time? That I've loved him forever? That every moment I've spent with him since Valentine’s
day has been equal parts amazing and terrifying? He'll just- just laugh at me or something and it
will all be over! And before you start- I know if I keep going like this, it's not going to end well
okay? But I have no idea how to fix it without causing some massive rift between us. I know that."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Alya shushed, wrapping her arms around Marinette, worried to discover she was
trembling. "It's not like he's being truthful with his identity, whoever he may be."

"Exactly, Marinette. This is just your fear talking! You know deep down that he could never laugh
at you, or hate you. Not after everything you've been through together!"

Marinette hesitated, leaning back in her chair and gazing into Tikki's hopeful eyes.

"She's right you know," Alya agreed, releasing Marinette and sitting back down, nodding her head
sagely behind her coffee cup. "I'm not saying you should confess everything right away, especially
when all of this is so new, but I think you're right too. If you keep going like this, you're only going
to end up hurt. And I really don't want to go to prison for murdering a cat-boy when I've got such a
promising journalism career ahead of me."

She winked, making Marinette giggle for the first time that day. The amusement she felt, however,
was short lived- more of a plaster attempting to cover a gaping wound. Marinette sighed, twirling
her fingers through her hair, through the green ribbons she'd taken to wearing the past couple of
months.

"Right now, I just have to focus on letting Nath down easily," she said, wavering determination
filling her, juxtaposing a creeping sense of dread. She hated to let Nathanael down, they'd been
friends for so long.

Balling her hands into fists, Marinette's focus burned holes in the wall as she waited for the rest of
the class to appear, along with Nathanael. Really the whole thing with Chat Noir could wait.
Currently, she needed to make sure her friendship with Nathanael survived what was sure to be an
awkward encounter. She was certain their relationship could prevail, providing she was kind
enough. After all Nath's crush was a result of his growing sense of loneliness rather than actual
feelings towards her, she was sure of that.

Not that she could blame him. Being unwillingly single did things to a person’s self-esteem, of that
she was acutely aware.

Besides, Nathanael was so sweet, he always had been. So she wanted to return the favour, even if
she was rejecting him (to put it bluntly).
"It'll be ok, you know. You'll be ok," Alya's voice broke her out of the cycle of her own thoughts.
"You and Nath go way back and, like Tikki said, you and cat-boy have gone through so much
together. But even if things don't work out the way you hope, I know you'll be fine. Now-" she
rubbed her hands together- "Are we done with your shit? Because I swear to god if I have to deal
with my mansplaining fudgenut of a research partner for one more day I'm going to go to prison
before I even get a chance to kick your lover's butt."

Marinette laughed, trying to ignore the steady slew of students entering the room and concentrate
on helping Alya manage her fully justified anger. It was a welcome distraction, focusing on her
friend's problems for a change.

***

Her problems, however, came crashing down at her with the force of a rampaging elephant of
steroids as she slumped into her desk chair later that afternoon, exhausted and at her wits end.

Nathanael hadn't shown up to class, and all her texts to him had gone unseen. Either his phone was
freaking out again, or he was deliberately avoiding her.

"Tikki why are men so painfully exhausting?" she grumbled, letting her chin rest on her keyboard.
The sticky-notes app popped up on screen, automatically typing 'bhhhhhhhhhhhn' due to the
placement of her chin on the keyboard.

'Bhhhhhhhhhhhn' pretty much summed up exactly what she was feeling at present.

"You know, Marinette," Tikki replied, nuzzling into her shoulder, a wicked grin on her face. "I've
been around for thousands of years and I can say, with total certainty, that I have no idea why they
are. They just are."

Marinette chortled, cuddling her precious companion. For some strange reason, she found that non-
answer comforting.

"Ok well, boy problems can wait for the time being I guess. I better get to work."

She pulled herself up to her dressmaker’s mannequin, where her latest design hung loosely. It was a
commission, one she'd been slowly working on over the course of a couple of weeks. Since starting
university, Marinette had been accepting commissions (usually of the cosplay variety) to help her
pay for daily expenses. Adrien had actually commissioned her for this one, based on the one Final
Fantasy game she’d shamefully not played, and the look of horror on his face when she admitted it
was one she’d never forget. It was like she’d admitted to killing Santa.

She chuckled at the memory. At least there was one cute guy in her life who didn't cause her
trouble.

(Ok Nino was cute too, she thought guiltily, but she couldn't really see him as cute considering her
best friend was dating him and he was more like a brother really.)

Briefly, she considered asking Chat if he would model the outfit for her when it was done, before
she did the final tweaks. Him and Adrien were similar in height after all.

As quickly as the thought came, however, she squashed it. No boys. No distractions. It was time
for work.

The golden glow of the sun filtered through the room, the dulcet tones of the latest Jagged Stone
release filtering through the speakers of her computer, and Marinette felt a kind of peace she hadn't
experienced in a long time. She measured, tweaked, and sewed to her hearts content. The outfit
called for some hand sewing and for that she was glad, despite the extra work. Hand sewing was
always one of her favourite things to do. When it went right at least.

All the while Tikki floated around her, cracking jokes and encouraging remarks, and offering
Marinette whatever tools she needed.

"It's so amazing you know," the Kwami said after some time, "to see how far you've come with
your designs!"

Marinette smiled around the sewing needle currently being held between her lips. "That's good to
know,” she replied, removing the sewing needle from her mouth and sticking it back into the
jacket. “I'd hate to be stuck at the same level I was years ag-"

A knock at her window interrupted her and she glanced at Tikki, who'd frozen mid-air.

So, that confirmed she hadn't been hearing things.

When the knocking appeared again, Marinette caught a glimpse of a purple glove and her heart
lurched. Turning to Tikki she hissed at the Kwami to hide, whilst she herself half hid behind her
mannequin.

"Marinette?" a voice called, before a head popped into view, and her eyes bulged. "Are you in
there?"
Stepping around the mannequin, her jaw open wide, Marinette rubbed her eyes in disbelief. No. It
wasn’t possible, surely, she was seeing things. Surely it wasn’t…

"NATHANAEL?"

But it wasn't Nathanael, not really, not how she knew him to be. His bright red hair was tied up in a
ponytail, ends darkening to a sunburnt orange and somehow looking...spikier? His skin was a
strange purple hue and his eyes gave off a faint glow.

Her heart, having previously launched itself into her throat, now dropped like a stone.

There was only one explanation for this.

An akuma.

There'd been a time, after the defeat of Hawk Moth two years ago, that Ladybug and Chat Noir had
considered retiring for good. However, fate had other plans. For, although Hawk Moth had been
stopped and the Butterfly Miraculous now lie dormant, a few akuma had escaped the last final
cleanse. Without a wielder, they floated around the city like supernatural mosquitos, aimlessly
attracted to negative energy and unable to multiply without the miraculous to give them more
energy. When they found someone, they still possessed them, gave them powers, but with no Hawk
Moth working behind the scenes, the victims were free to follow their own agenda. Sometimes that
made them less dangerous, and sometimes more so.

Either way, it was certainly the reason for the sudden popularity rise the ‘mindfulness’ craze had
taken in recent years. Luckily for everyone, akuma attacks were getting less and less frequent as
the last of the purple butterflies dwindled. In fact, this was the first one this year, and they were
already in April. All of this was irrelevant, however, because it was her friend who’d been chosen.
Her friend who'd been upset enough to attract an akuma, her friend whom she needed to help.

But she was stuck. She couldn't transform. Not now at least.

Marinette continued to stare at Nathanael's floating head, her brain desperately scrambling for
solutions and coming up blank, before he looked away with a blush.

"Umm... can I come in?"

She blinked, surprised by the gentleness in his tone, and nodded. Maybe if she knew what he
wanted, she could help him without the need for any big battles. Nathanael wasn't exactly the
fighting type, but nothing could be ruled out where akuma were involved.

Smiling shyly, Nathanael phased into the room, keeping his distance from her. In his arms, he held
a tablet and pen, and her eyes were instantly drawn to them, thinking...
"I know, it's pretty cool, isn't it?" Nathanael grinned sheepishly. "I kind of look more villain-ish
than I hoped though."

Marinette swallowed dumbly. "Kind of like an evillustrator."

Nathanael laughed, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess so! But I swear, you don't have
to be afraid of me like this! I promise I won't hurt you. And I have really cool powers now, look!"

He raised the pen to the tablet, quickly drawing something Marinette couldn't see. Between them, a
faint purple glow appeared and suddenly, a bouquet of gorgeous, red roses materialised.

Nathanael stooped to catch them before they hit the ground. Timidly, he handed them over to
Marinette, his purpled cheeks darkening. "Umm... these are for you."

Marinette accepted them, held the bouquet in her hands, her mind spinning and searching for a
reason as to why Nathanael had been akumatised, why he was here.

"I- I know this is really sudden and I don't want to freak you out," Nathanael stammered shyly,
bringing the tablet back to his chest. "But- may I take you out tonight? As- as a date I mean. I can
take you wherever you want to! With my powers and everything, I'm sure I can draw something
you'd like."

Oh. Oh god.

An akuma was asking her on a date.

Well, she thought stupidly, at least she now knew the reason why Nath had attracted an akuma.

What if she said no? Would he get angry? Would he run away and hide? Would she even get the
chance to sneak away and transform?

An idea hit her. It was risky, and Chat Noir would probably kill her for suggesting it, but it was the
only way she could think to both keep her identity a secret, and keep Nathanael placated.

"I' d love to," she replied, breathless, forcing a smile on her face. No doubt it made her look like a
demented clown. "Go on a date I mean. With you. I'd love to."

Nathanael beamed at her, and she tried to ignore the stabbing guilt at lying to him. Why was she
lying so much these days? "Awesome! That's great! You won't regret it! Ok so can I meet you
tonight by the love-lock bridge?"

Marinette nodded, awkwardly fumbling with the bouquet in her arms. "S-sure!"

"Great! Ok you don't have to decide what we do now, take your time ok? I'm going to practice
drawing with this thing, it can get a bit sketchy. Oh!" His eyes brightened. "Pun unintended!"

With one breathless farewell, Nathanael waved at her, phasing out of the wall and disappearing
from sight. The second he left, Marinette stumbled backwards into her desk chair, clutching her
chest.
 Tikki popped up from her hiding place, looking visibly relieved. "Well at least he's still nice, for
now!" she said, as if that would provide any sense of relief to Marinette's troubled mind.

Marinette didn't reply. Instead, her fingers brushed against her miraculous as she glanced at the
clock. Chat Noir was due to start his patrol in an hour, she could transform and contact him then.

In the meantime, she was pretty sure she was going to have a panic attack.

So much for a peaceful evening of sewing.

Chapter End Notes

Uh-ooooh, what's Mari gotten herself into now? Ehehehehe >:3 wasn't Eden's art
amazing? I love her chibis soooo much ^O^ and the smoochies of course!

Tune in next time for Evillustrator Part Two! And could Chat get a little...jealous?
Ohohohohoh~

Follow Eden on tumblr: @edendaphne

Follow me on tumblr: @midnightstarlightwrites
 Evillustrator Part Two
Chapter by edelet, EdenDaphne (edelet), midnightstarlightwrites

Chapter Notes

Ack >.< we're sorry it's been so long! Both Eden and myself have had some big life
things to deal with recently, booooo adulthood.

But we've been talking about new ways to organise the writing/art portion so that
updates between chapters don't take as long ^_^ thank you for your support during this
time. We hope you enjoy the new chapter and penultimate one of the Evillustrator arc!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Ladybug inhaled sharply. Sitting cross legged on her bed, she curled into the most inconspicuous
corner and rested her yo-yo on her thighs.
“Marinette!” she heard her mother call out. “Do you want me to make you some extra snacks for
your patrol tonight?”

“No Mama! It’s fine!” she yelled back in response. The first lie of the evening. True her parents
had known about her secret identity for years (it was hard not to know considering the fact that,
well, gunshot wounds were pretty tricky to hide) but she still didn’t quite think they’d support her
half-baked idea.

This wasn’t going to be easy, but she had to try.

Her eyes glanced to her phone and, noting the time, she took another breath to steady her nerves.
Chat should be starting his evening patrol around now, and he was fully expecting to visit
Marinette afterwards. Unfortunately, there was someone else she had to spend time with first.

I can handle this. I am a mature adult. I am Ladybug and I- I am so screwed. Oh god I’m SO
screwed.

What had she been THINKING?! Agreeing to go on a date with her akumatised friend? She’d
spent ages afterwards half-hyperventilating, half desperately scrambling for any scrap of a decent
plan she could think of.

Once again, she found herself on a new layer of thin ice, similar to the one she’d faced with Chat
the night after Valentine’s day all those months ago. Only this time, she didn’t want the ice to
crack, she didn’t want to endure the fallout from it should this plan fail…

It seemed that every time she thought the lines blurred between herself, Ladybug, Chat and
whoever he was behind the mask, something came along to tip the balance further off- to smudge
said line with a damp cloth.

Even though they'd been partners for years, even though they loved each other dearly (in very
different ways, she thought with a slight pang) there had always been a barrier between them.
Ladybug and Chat. When they’d been younger the idea of Chat, twenty-year-old, gorgeous,
ADULT Chat Noir, knowing her in all her awkward, sixteen-year-old glory had been horrifying.
Chat himself, had always wanted to keep their relationship a mix between friendly and
professional. As they grew, her maturity caught up with his and, especially after defeating Hawk
Moth, their dynamic changed.

They became friends. Really good friends.

Even without the threat of Hawk Moth looming over their heads, both of them were afraid of taking
that friendship further, of what revealing their identities could mean.

It was the great unspoken thing, the elephant trailing behind them whenever they patrolled
together, reminding them of their cowardice. It was stupid, it was irrational, but it was their routine.
It was theirs. And Marinette was messing with that routine every time she saw Chat as herself,
every time she had to cover her blushing face during a patrol as memories of their romantic
encounters awoke, unbidden in her mind’s eye.

Then there was the slowly creeping guilt. The guilt which grew every time she kissed Chat, every
time he smiled at her whilst unaware that she was his partner of four years, every time she said
nothing when she could have told the truth.

Marinette hated liars, yet she was lying to the person she loved the most.

Her only solace was the fact that he was withholding his identity too. Still, he wasn’t outright lying
about it either. He wasn’t all but tricking her into a relationship. Marinette, on the other hand, was
beginning to suspect that she was guilty of that particular crime.

And yet here she was, knowing that she was practically offering her secret identity to him on a
silver platter if things went wrong tonight. Here she was, risking it all.

Ladybug groaned, falling backwards against the pillows and stewing in the mess she’d made of her
life and emotions. However, she decided that she couldn’t stew for long, and sat up with a huff.

She was restless, agitated, and deliberately holding herself back.

Trying to rid her imagination of the look on Chat’s face if he discovered just who exactly he’d been
kissing all these months, she ran her hand over her braid and sighed a third and final time.

Besides, how exactly was she supposed to confess, anyway?

“Hi Chat, how are you?”

“Hey LB, what’s up?”

“Oh, not much. Hey! Did you know you had your tongue in my mouth last night, Hot Stuff?”

“What?”

“What.”

Yeah. Probably not.

Not wanting to drag herself through more anxiety, Ladybug swallowed the lump of panic forming
in her throat and opened her yo-yo to call Chat. After a few moments of ringing, which seemed to
stretch on for an eternity, her partner’s friendly face appeared on the receiver- slightly shaky due to
him walking. Paris’ skyline glowed behind him, the light of the setting sun highlighting his hair
with streaks of honey and gold and Ladybug had to fight not to drool.

“Hey LB, everything ok?” he greeted, cheerful and totally oblivious to the bomb she was about to
drop.

“Hey Chat, I have a big favour to ask you,” she replied, her tone serious as she shifted her weight.
Now that she’d gotten over the worst part (the anticipation), the plan began to fall from her lips
more easily, and the command in her voice took hold, her Ladybug confidence slipping on as easily
as her favourite jacket.

It was tantamount to how well they knew each other by now that Chat instantly picked up on her
tone, and immediately came to a halt. He frowned into the camera, nodding once. “Ok, what’s
going on?”

Ladybug gave herself a fraction of a second to remember the lines she’d rehearsed, and decided to
look directly into the small camera as opposed to the monitor. Even when she wasn’t truly face-to-
face with him, it was still easier to avoid his gaze. “I’m out of town today- on a day trip. Not too
far, which is why I didn’t think I’d need to tell you. I’m a couple of hours away but-” she giggled
nervously- “you know me! Seems like I always tempt fate.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Little Lady,” Chat grinned, and her heart flipped the way it
always did when he called her that. “So, how’d you tempt fate this time? Or what happened to
make you think you tempted fate?”
“Well,” Ladybug quirked her lips, shrugged her shoulders, “you know how the occasional akuma
still pops up from time to time?”

The grin dropped from Chat’s face, and he brought a hand up to his face. “LB,” he said, his tone
low, “Please tell me there isn’t an akuma around whilst you’re a couple of hours away?”

“Ok I won’t tell you,” Ladybug chuckled again, albeit much more sheepishly this time. “I also
won’t tell you that this particular akuma made a date with someone I know, and she told me about
it, and that’s how I found out.”

“WHAT?!”

Ladybug winced, rushing to cover the receiver and praying that her parents hadn’t heard that. Or, if
they did, they thought she was just watching TV or something. Hoo boy, he freaked out at that and
he doesn’t even know that I’m the one dating the akuma yet.

Before she was able to explain further, Chat scratched his head, looking so baffled that Ladybug
had to bite her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Admittedly it wasn’t supposed to be a funny
scenario, and the consequences from it going wrong were disastrous, but it was also so absurd that
she couldn’t help the wave of amusement flooding her if she tried. “Ok, I get that girls go for bad
boys sometimes, but that’s really taking the cake. Honestly, whoever decided it was a good idea to
date an akuma needs to re-evaluate their taste in partners.”

“Hey! Don’t be rude!” Ladybug snapped, unable to stop herself being offended. After all, he was
unintentionally insulting both of them. But he’d eat his words soon enough. She was able to cover
her slip-up with a hurried explanation, one full of half-truths. “The girl was kind of scared, and it’s
because the akuma is a friend of hers and asked her on a date. She was worried that, if she said no,
the akuma would go crazy. I think the reason he got akumatised in the first place was because of
his feelings for her. He’s apparently promised that he’s not bad and he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.
He only wants to use his ‘cool new powers’ to take her on a date and it would’ve been fine if she’d
said no, but she didn’t want to risk it just in case.”

“I can’t decide if that’s sweet or creepy,” Chat grimaced, wrinkling his nose, and Ladybug had to
laugh again at that. It was far too endearing not to. “So, what do you want me to do about it? I
can’t really stop the akuma without you here.”

“No, but you can totally stall until I get there to cleanse it, and also make sure the girl doesn’t get
hurt,” she replied. “The girl told me she thinks the akuma might be in his tablet. His powers are
kind of art-based. He can create what he draws. If you can get the item away from the akuma, he’ll
be powerless.”

“Uh-huh, can do! But I guess making sure the girl is safe is first priority, right?” Chat asked, tilting
his head quizzically.

Ladybug shifted, feeling little pinpricks of annoyance shoot through her. Logically, she knew she
was powerless as Marinette, logically she knew that Chat would need to be there to protect her in
case things went south (at least until she could sneak away to transform). Emotionally, however,
she couldn’t help but feel insulted.

How on earth she, a superhero of nearly four years, had willingly placed herself in the role of
damsel in distress, she’d never know. That being said, this was a perfect opportunity to show Chat
how capable she was as Marinette. Not through strength, but through strategy.

“Right,” she replied through gritted teeth. “The girl’s supposed to meet the akuma for their date in
two hours by the Notre Dame. She said she’d arrive early though so you can discuss a game plan.”

Chat’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well I’ve gotta say, I’m impressed with this girl’s guts! But I
need a little bit more information about her. A name, a visual description, just so I know to spot
her. Pun not intended.”

“That makes a change,” Ladybug grinned, using their banter to hide her rising panic. This was it.
The moment of truth. Swallowing, she flicked through her yo-yo for the right application. “I’m
sending you a photo of her now.”

Her heart was a drum, beating almost painfully against her ribs, as she pressed a shaking finger to
her yo-yo and sent a photo of her civilian self to her partner and sort-of boyfriend.

She couldn’t see his face (the photo covered her screen) but Chat’s resounding yelp and the
metallic clang which followed gave Ladybug all the evidence she needed to know how he reacted.

“S-sorry!” Chat’s voice was faint, and there were some shuffling noises in the background. Safely
out of view of Chat Noir’s view, Ladybug grabbed a cushion and buried her face into it half
between heaven and hell. “I errr- I tripped and dropped my baton. So…that’s- that’s her?”

Ladybug was shivering. Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through her, the anticipation, but
sitting up and opening her mouth to reply felt about as easy as moving an active volcano with
nothing but a wooden spoon to aid her.

“Uh-huh, that’s her. Her name is Marinette.” And then a wicked idea came to her mind. It was
cheeky, and a bit silly, but how many times had he tormented her with cat puns at inappropriate
times (both as Marinette and Ladybug)? It was only fair. It was payback.

Smirking, she brought the yo-yo close to her lips and giggled. “Cute, isn’t she?”

The squeaky spluttering she got in response was worth withstanding inopportune cat puns for the
next year at least.
Chat Noir was not happy.

The night was in full swing. His patrol was over. By all accounts it should have been a happy time,
a time to visit the girl he loved, cuddle her, kiss her, listen to her stories and dote on her the way
she deserved.

Sometimes he wondered if he had some kind of chaotic god, deliberately pulling at the strings of
his carefully made plans until they unravelled like a cheap suit. Then he remembered. He had
exactly that. Plagg.

Half hidden in shadows, Chat leaned against a tree overlooking the Notre Dame. He glanced
upwards, staring up at the lights, lost in thought as his eyes skimmed over the old stone cathedral.
Ladybug had given him the lowdown on Marinette’s situation, but his stomach twisted itself into
knots nonetheless, especially when he thought of their conversation the night before. Clenching
and unclenching his fists, Chat tried to contain the restlessness prickling his skin like a thousand
tiny needles. It was a restlessness which would not heal itself. Only Marinette could save him from
it.

He worried.

What if something had happened with the guy who’d asked her out? He was the akuma wasn’t he?
What if she’d turned him down and he’d been akumatised and was now not taking no for an
answer?

“The girl was kind of scared, and it’s because the akuma is a friend of hers and asked her on a
date. She was worried that, if she said no, the akuma would go crazy...”

A low growl escaped his throat before he could help himself. Something dark and surprisingly
primal rose up his chest, a level of protectiveness he didn’t know he possessed. It wasn’t jealousy.
No. Instead, the slow burning anger spreading through his veins like poison, was very much
directed at the akuma.

“The girl was kind of scared…”

“She was worried that, if she said no, the akuma would go crazy...”

How dare he? The akuma- how dare he make her feel that way? Especially someone as wonderful,
sweet and downright kick-ass as Marinette.

Chat was going to make damn sure she remained safe, that she wasn’t scared. Not around him.
Never around him.

“That can’t be my Kitty looking so glum, can it?”

Chat’s head turned at the sound of her voice, and his eyes widened. All at once, the rage boiling in
his blood tempered, to be replaced with an entirely different heat.

His jaw dropped.

Marinette was standing a few feet away from him, smiling shyly, her fingers coiled around the
spaghetti strap of her small handbag. Her figure was framed in a halo of streetlight, which
highlighted the snug black dress she wore and the softness of her lightly curled hair. For some
strange reason, the sight of her still wearing the green ribbons filled him with relief so palpable that
all the breath left his body in one fell swoop.

All he could think was he was very glad he was hidden by the shadow of the tree, and that his
mask did a good job of hiding his cheek bones. He felt like he’d just been shoved head first into an
oven.

The length of time he’d spent gaping at her must have been longer than he’d realised, as Marinette
began to shift awkwardly, glancing at her feet. “No heels,” she chuckled, but her voice was high
and squeaky. Over the six months Chat (or rather Adrien) had come to know her, he recognised her
voice tended to get that way whenever she was excited or nervous. “For a quick getaway in case I
need it! See? I came prepared.”

That was good, Chat thought, because he certainly hadn’t been.

When Marinette began to frown, the light crinkles on her forehead conveying just the slightest hint
of worry, Chat managed to kick himself out of his reverie. Shaking his head, he walked over to her,
staring directly into her eyes (he couldn’t stare at her in that dress, he didn’t want to be that guy,
especially considering she was technically in a perilous situation at that moment in time) and
reached for one of her hands.

“You certainly did Princess,” he uttered as his lips brushed against her knuckles. How he found it
in himself to speak, he had no idea. “And your knight is here to help you in your quest.”

Marinette giggled, reaching up to boop his nose, obviously unaware of the effect her appearance
was having on him. “My knight, is a scoundrel and a flirt, and totally distracting me from my
quest.”

Chat’s smile dropped as he recalled exactly why they were there, why she was dressed as if she
was going on a date. “Mari,” he said, all traces of humour gone. “This guy, the akuma, is he the
one who asked you out?”

Marinette raised her eyes, taken aback by the question, but nodded nonetheless. “Yeah he is. He’s a
friend from my school days. But don’t worry! He’s not creepy or anything. He’s… it’s
complicated. I think he’s going through some stuff. I- I just want to make sure he’s ok, you know?
And I haven’t exactly handled this situation well. I need to make up for that.”

Chat swallowed, his heart almost breaking at how kind she was being. She had every right to be
angry and yet here she was feeling sorry for a guy who’d put her on the spot in such an awful way.
Granted he was an akuma at the time, and even akuma outside of the control of Hawk Moth were
known to act wildly out of character. It was the nature of the beast.

Still, Chat couldn’t help but be concerned on her behalf.

“And you’re sure you’ll be ok?” Chat asked, squeezing the hand he still held. “I trust your
judgement, but I could just take him out the second I see him. I’d rather risk that than risk your
safety any day.”

“I’m not scared if that’s what you’re asking,” Marinette replied hotly, gazing up at him with a
fierce determination that brought a smile to his face. It seemed like passionate, fierce women had a
knack for finding him in life. “He’d never hurt me either, so I’d like to take the path of least
resistance.”

After a moment of intense eye contact, Chat nodded solemnly, trying to pretend like her smoky eye
make-up wasn’t doing things to him PRIORITIES AGRESTE! “Ok. If that’s what you want, I trust
you. You’ve known him for a long time after all. But a lot can go wrong with an akuma attack. I’m
game for a pacifist route but we have to be smart about it. So-” he clapped his hands- “Ladybug
mentioned you had a theory about the akuma’s whereabouts…”

They talked for a while, discussing their game plan in detail, both of them acutely aware of time
passing. Eventually, however, the began to air grow thick with tension, and a nearby clock chimed.
The hour was nearly upon them. The date, almost here.

“I should go to the meeting spot,” Marinette said reluctantly, for in between their moments of
intense strategizing, there had been a few shared puns and enough giggles to make her forget what
they were there for- if only for a moment. Her heart flipped painfully when she turned her head to
the side, when she caught Chat staring at her.

For a moment, just a moment, she’d forgotten that it wasn’t him she was out on a date with.

But there wasn’t time to think about that. There was time to muse on the painful realities of her half
relationship with the masked man she’d secretly loved for the past four years. Miraculous or not,
she was still Ladybug, even though she was incognito.

She had a job to do.

“Marinette wait!” Chat called out to her from back under his shadowed tree. She paused, turning
around to face him. Marinette couldn’t make out his expression very well in the dim light, but the
way he reached up and scratched the back of his head struck a chord in her brain. Memories
flooded her, just out of her reach, a familiarity she couldn’t quite place before he dropped his arm
and looked at her with earnest, faintly glowing eyes. “You… you look beautiful.”

The feeling that ran through her body at his words was indescribable; not quite a fluttering, not a
tickling, nor a burning, but somehow a combination of all three which left her feeling bubbly and
breathless.

“Th-thank you,” she replied stumbling slightly as she walked backwards. “I’m gonna- akuma- you
know- kick butt and all! Totally. Fun stuff. Ha. Beautiful I-” she turned and hurried away, not
looking back as embarrassment burned her cheeks.

It was a good thing she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts (beautiful, beautiful, he thinks I’m
BEAUTIFUL!), as the sight of the sheer, lacy back of her dress had Chat fumbling to stabilise
himself against the trunk of the tree.

He missed.

Once he’d righted himself, he leapt, climbing onto the roof of the Notre Dame and hiding amongst
the statues as he watched Marinette waiting for the akuma below, a myriad of emotions swirling
inside him.

As he waited, he wished. As he wished, so too did he fear. And as his fears grew, so did his
frustrations.

His claws dug into the stone statue, bitterness souring his tongue. This wouldn’t have happened if
he’d just been honest with her from the start. If he’d confessed his love to her as Adrien, things
could’ve been so different. Maybe this Nathanael person might have still asked Marinette on a date,
but Marinette would have been freer to give a clear answer and maybe Nathanael could’ve been let
down more gently as a result- meaning no akuma. It must’ve been hard, he thought, for Marinette
to be in a situation where she couldn’t exactly say she was seeing someone, but couldn’t not say it
either. He was to blame for that. He was a coward through and through, so deep into his cowardice
that he could no longer see a way out without hurting someone he cared for so deeply.

But, he thought as he watched Nathanael arrive by boat of all things, he wanted what he was
watching so badly. He wanted to date Marinette for real. He wanted to take her out on moonlit boat
rides, like Nathanael was currently doing. Following their path along the river, Chat watched as
they talked in hushed tones. Granted he knew she was trying to lull him into a false sense of
security, but she looked so at ease that a part of him broke.

He could’ve had that. He could’ve had what he was watching… maybe. If he hadn’t been so afraid
before. Now a part of him doubted he would ever be able to be with her the way he so desperately
wanted to be. He wondered if he was doomed to forever watch her from the shadows, never
allowed to join her in the light.

And then a voice prodded his mind. A sharp but sweet voice, one he’d known for many years,
reminding him of the mission at hand. Taking a shuddering breath, he placed his emotions in a
little drawer at the back of his heart and vowed to revisit it once this was over and done with. But
he was probably fooling himself.

He ran and ran, on all fours so he could close the gap between himself and the boat. Running
alongside the river’s edge, he leapt. Gabbing hold of the edge of the railings at the stern, he hauled
himself over, crouching low. He froze, waiting for a reaction. Nothing.

Chat crawled forwards, keeping himself out of sight. The pair of them, the akuma and Marinette,
were sitting on a bench on a raised platform. A large steering wheel stood halfway between himself
and the pair. It appeared the akuma was steering it using magic. Using quick logic, Chat was able
to figure out that if he distracted the akuma enough, the boat might veer off course and hit the river
bank.

His eyes scanned for some quick exit routes, places to land with Marinette in his arms should he
need to, whilst he waited for the signal.

“Can you make it play music? I’m super curious as to what it can do!” Marinette was saying, and
Chat smirked. His girl was the sweetest, most Oscar-worthy actress of all time, and he was going to
kiss her senseless the moment she was back home safely.

Then the akuma chuckled, the sound practically slapping the smile off of Chat’s face. “It sure can,
any requests? I may not be a Nino but I’m sure I can find something you like?”
“Can I try?” Marinette asked, her voice bright and perky, and Chat couldn’t help but notice the
genuine feel in her tone. He bit his lip to stop himself laughing. How cute. She was a designer, of
course she’d love to get a hold of a magic device which made all your drawings become real. He’d
have to tease her about that later.

Poking his head above the surface of the platform, Chat watched as the akuma fidgeted nervously.
“Well…umm… maybe I guess? But you have to be careful with it ok? And I can’t let go of it or
the boat will steer out of control. You can try but umm, that means we’ll have to touch…hands…”

Chat’s ears flattened against his head and he fought off a snarl. Honestly the number of U-turns his
emotions had taken in the past couple of hours was enough to give him whiplash.

“Of course!” Marinette cried, beaming as she reached out towards the pen. This was it. Chat raised
himself, the smallest amount, as Marinette caught his eyes. He was ready.

Nathanael scooted closer to Marinette, the gap between them shortening. Their knees were
touching. His fingers reached for Marinette’s, pen in hand, and Chat did his best to ignore it all, to
block it all out, he really did. It was starting to feel like the worst kind of torture.

It’s pretend. It’s fake. And she’s not your girlfriend anyway. You have no right to feel this way, and
you should be FOCUSING, his mind chided him, yelled and cussed him out but his heart refused to
listen.

Marinette’s fingers came to a rest, half holding Nathanael’s hand and half-gripping the stylus. The
second her hand was on his, the boat jolted, similarly to the way a stomach lurches or a heart rises
when the person you like touches you. Chat knew exactly what caused it.

The pen clattered to the floor.

“Shoot, ah- sorry Mari let me get that.” Nathanael was ducking down; the pen was just out of
Chat’s reach. He could jump up and get it, he could-

Nathanael’s eyes locked onto his own.

“YOU!” he gasped, ducking down and snatching the pen right as Chat made an attempt to leap for
it.

Marinette jumped to her feet, and Nathanael held out an arm to cover her.

Chat didn’t have time to think, as Nathanael began to draw on his tablet. Calling for Marinette to
stay back, he turned back to Chat with narrowed eyes. “Couldn’t you let us finish our date at least?
It’s not like I was hurting anyone.”

Chat didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead he dodged the ropes which appeared at Nathanael’s
command, rolling out of the way as they attempted to restrain him. In doing so, however, he missed
the attack from above. Far too late, he realised the ropes weren’t attempting to restrain him. They
were forcing him towards the front of the boat, where the deck was the widest.

“CHAT! HEADS UP!” Marinette’s yell of horror alerted him, and he looked up just as a large, see-
through box crashed down around him, trapping him like a zoo animal.

He was stuck.

Using his baton, he hit against the glass. Over and over again, he tried to get it to break. Yet, even
with all his super-strength, it remained intact. He was panicking. Marinette was out there, she was
running to him, but he couldn’t hear what she was yelling as she came towards him, pushing
against the glass. She was trying to free him, and that only made him fear for her more.

Cataclysm, a part of his mind whispered, but he couldn’t. He’d only used his special attack once in
anger, and it had destroyed a whole monument. There had been civilians nearby. People had gotten
hurt. Luckily, Ladybug was able to fix it, but she wasn’t here now.
He needed to calm himself down. He needed to get out. He needed to save Marinette.

Nathanael was behind her and Chat smacked his hand against the glass, his eyes meeting
Marinette’s, begging her to turn around, to run away. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?

From inside his glass prison, he couldn’t hear anything, only the constant throbbing of his wild
heart, only the blood roaring in his ears and the breath hissing through his teeth. Nathanael was
speaking, but he didn’t look angry. Instead, he looked dejected, almost… heartbroken?

Chat didn’t care. He didn’t care at all. All he could think of was that he was trapped and there was
an akuma that could harm Marinette. He couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t protect her.

Marinette said something, stepping towards Nath, and Chat slammed on the glass a few times,
screaming at her not to get any closer to the akuma. She held out her hand. A peace offering.

Nathanael frowned and, for a split second, the world froze. Chat waited, held his breath, his fingers
splayed against the glass as if willing it to cease existing. If Marinette got hurt, he’d never forgive
himself.

And then Nathanael shifted forwards, leaping away from the boat and disappearing into the night.

Without a captain, without someone controlling it, the boat lurched as it veered off course and Chat
was thrown against the side of the glass. Marinette turned back towards him, she was running to
get him. Chat couldn’t stop her, couldn’t warn her.
The boat slammed into the river bank. Even through the glass, Chat could hear the horrendous
sound of the metal groaning and bending and twisting as the floor shuddered violently beneath
them. And Marinette was still running, but she was tripping over herself as the floor became
unstable, the magic holding it together fading fast.

The boat began to quake harder than ever, and Marinette fell, hitting the side of Chat’s glass
prison, her head smacking against the corner. She stumbled blindly, clutching her head, her eyes
scrunched in pain.

“MARINETTE!” Chat screamed as the boat began to dip below the surface, trying to warn her. But
she didn’t see the edge of the railings until it was too late, until the boat lurched a final, horrendous
time.
 The last thing Chat saw was the flash of her green hair ribbons as she fell over the side of the boat,
disappearing into the depths of the ice-cold river below.

Chapter End Notes

Can we all just stop and appreciate how amazing Eden draws Marinette's hair? I DIE!

Find Eden's tumblr here: Edendaphne

Find Midnightstarlightwrite's tumblr here: Midnightstarlightwrites
 Evillustrator Part Three
Chapter by edelet, EdenDaphne (edelet), midnightstarlightwrites

Chapter Notes

Oh yeah!!! It's the final chapter of this crazy saga are you ready!?!?!?!

Disclaimer: We got a lot of really pressuring, and sometimes a little rude, asks and
comments demanding an update or asking about our update schedule. Unfortunately
both of us are working adults, and Eden has two young children too. We've talked
about this a bit more on tumblr and I don't want to bog you with details here, but we
work really hard on these chapters whenever we get a moments to spare along with our
other projects. We try to get it out as quickly as possible and we will never abandon
the project. Even if it's been a month or two since the last update, know that we're
quietly working hard! We talk about it almost every day! <3

For me personally, I've also been working very hard on the first novel that I hope to try
and publish! Please support me in this, it's been my dream ever since I was a child ^_^
and support Eden too! She sacrificed sleep for this chapter! SLEEP!!!!

ALSO ALSO OMG THE NEW SEASON IS LIT GUYS! WE ARE BLESSED WITH
S2 FINALLY!!! WOOP WOOP!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The world vanished.

The sky turned dark, the deck beneath his feet became a gaping void and Chat Noir was left bereft
in a sea of panic and horror. Only two solid facts remained:

Marinette had fallen. And he was still trapped.

Time no longer felt real, everything happened too quickly and yet slow enough to burn into his
mind every painstaking detail. Time stretched on, and he was still on the wrong side of the glass.

And time, as well, was running out.

“CATACLYSM!” he heard himself yell. Because he no longer cared. Because the girl he loved
was no longer on the boat. What did it matter if he was yet again too emotional to focus the attack
on one specific place? What did it matter if his attack spread, like a virus, infecting the whole ship
until the wretched thing disappeared?

He’d destroy it. He’d destroy the whole damn thing if it meant getting to her, if it meant her being
safe. She had to be safe. She had to be.
The box was the first thing to disappear under his fingers, but the inky blackness of his attack was
spreading. He ran. Even as the deck began to disintegrate under his feet, as he felt each footstep
grow heavier and heavier under the weight of the collapsing ship, like running through sand, he
kept going.

By the time he reached the spot where Marinette had fallen, half of the boat had gone. As soon as
he jumped, it vanished completely, a smattering of black dust was all that remained as he leapt
headfirst into the river. He didn’t look back.

The cold hit him almost immediately, a million icy daggers stabbing every exposed bit of flesh
unguarded by his suit. Even with his powers protecting him from the brunt of the pain, he still felt
it, and it only made him more fearful for Marinette.

He kicked his legs, his lungs burned, and still he swam further down. Every part of his body was
screaming at him to close his eyes, to clamour back to the surface. Doing his best to block it out,
Chat forced his eyes wide open, ignoring the stinging as his vision shifted to the familiar night-
vision green. It only improved his visibility by a fraction. The water was murky, as most city rivers
tended to be.

Where was she?

A glimpse of what looked like a shadow was all Chat needed to dive deeper. Swimming harder
than he’d ever done in his life, fighting against the current, fighting against his own body, fighting
for her, Chat fumbled semi-blind until he finally, finally felt something.

A hand. A hand that squeezed back.

Chat pulled until Marinette’s form appeared from the darkness of the river. Wrapping one arm
around her waist, he kicked upwards and prayed he wasn’t hurting her further. Water flooded
through his nostrils at the change of direction and he choked. All at once, his mouth was consumed
by the river, the rancid water flowing through him until he felt like he was merging with it. Still he
clawed his way to the surface, Marinette in his arms.

It felt like an eternity had passed before they finally broke the surface.

Chat gasped, his lungs desperately hacking up the water he'd accidentally swallowed moments
before. Hearing Marinette’s choked, water-lodged splutters next to him gave him only half a
second's worth of relief. With one arm, he paddled towards the water’s edge.

Not stopping until they were both free of the river’s hold on them, he placed Marinette onto the
river bank as gently as he could, collapsing right beside her in an exhausted, sodden heap.

“Mar- Marinette!” he coughed, crawling over to her. She was sitting up, still coughing, and the
sound haunted him. It echoed through his mind like a gunshot. When he reached her, he clutched
her shoulders lightly, untangling the strap of her purse (which had twisted around her arm in what
looked like a painful way) and began frantically scanning her features for any traces of injury.

Somehow, incredibly, her head seemed to be ok. There wasn’t any blood, although he could just
about see the beginnings of what was shaping up to be a nasty bruise. But she still wasn’t breathing
properly, and her whimpers in-between coughs broke something inside him. “Marinette, sweetheart
breathe. Princess, look at me please.”

She complied, looking up at him as he cradled her chin in his hands. It was only then he noticed
just how blue her eyes were. They were so blue… so…
“I’m-” she tried to say, before leaning over and coughing some more and disrupting his train of
thought.

“Don’t speak, love. Please? It’ll hurt. It’s ok, I’m here,” Chat whispered, pulling her close so that
her head was against his chest. “Breathe with me Princess. We have to get you warm.”

He couldn’t stop the terms of endearments slipping from his lips, couldn’t stop cooing and stroking
and uttering words of adoration and comfort as she got back to her regular breathing pattern. It was
near hysterical, and he was doing it in part to comfort himself too, to tell himself that she was really
there. She was there in his arms. She was awake.

Then his ring began to beep.

“Chat,” she said, much clearer than before, though her voice was still rasping. “Your miraculous.”

Marinette pulled away from him, gazing into his eyes as his face fell. His hair was dripping wet,
yet even so he was still so warm. Or maybe she was just that cold?

Chat looked at her, utterly distraught, and a part of her loathed herself because it was her fault.
Because, for a split second, she’d forgotten she wasn’t Ladybug- had tried to help him- and it had
nearly cost her everything. It was a stupid mistake that had placed Chat in the worst of situations.

Now he was watching her like the world had ended, his ring was still beeping and he wasn’t
moving. Not one inch.

Then his face scrunched up, his eyes shone, and Marinette’s heart shattered.
"I don't care if the whole world sees who I am. I don't-" Chat collapsed onto her shoulder, yanking
her close in desperation. He was shaking. Marinette could feel his tears, warm and terrible, as they
landed on her skin and cascaded past her collarbone- "I only care about you. I don't care about that.
Not now. Not ever if you weren’t- are you ok? Marinette please, please tell me you're ok? Please."

“I’m ok, I promise. Besides, Ladybug will be here soon won’t she? She’ll fix the mess I made,”
Marinette mumbled, running her fingers through his wet hair numbly. A coldness crept into her,
one which had absolutely nothing to do with her recent river trip.

“You didn’t- it wasn’t your fault, it was mine.” Chat’s ring began to beep again, and he held onto
her protectively. “I can’t leave you here by yourself.”

“You have to,” Marinette soothed, pushing at his shoulders so she could look at him directly.
Smiling in what she hoped was a comforting manner, she leaned in to kiss him, even as the river
water left a somewhat unpleasant aftertaste, and she fought to control her shivering. “I’ll be ok! I
promise I’ll be fine. Ladybug’s Miraculous Cure will fix me right up! You know that.”

Chat didn’t say anything, his head bowed low as he stared at the ground. Marinette took that as
encouragement, and stood up on shaky feet. At the movement, Chat wheeled his head upright.
Horror-stricken, he leapt to his feet and clung to her arm. “Are you sure you’re ok to stand?”

Marinette rolled her eyes fondly. “I took a dip in the river. I’m not going to die. Especially not with
you around!”

When Chat winced, and winced hard, she realised her mistake. Oh god. Had she taken idiot pills
today or something? Was the Seine spiked with some sort of IQ reducing drug?

For once she remained silent, her back tensing, because there was nothing she could say here that
wouldn’t reveal her superhero identity. She couldn’t reassure him the way she wanted to.

Ladybug knew why he’d winced, what things in their past he secretly blamed himself for (though
he’d never stated it outright). Marinette, on the other hand, wasn’t supposed to know any of that.
He hadn’t told her those kinds of things yet. So she had to let it slide, feign ignorance, even as the
cracks in their relationship were beginning to show.

“I’ll wait for you here,” she offered, reaching out to touch his arm. In less than a second, Chat’s
hand was on top of hers, and he was caressing it again, both of them seemingly desperate to
comfort the other. “After you get rid of the akuma, I’ll wait for you here, so you can see I’m ok.
Ok? But you have to go now.”

The agonised expression Chat gave her as he stepped away, when the beeping of his ring grew too
loud to ignore further, and his grim nod of acceptance, made something unpleasant twist in
Marinette’s chest. It settled like a deadweight as she watched him disappear.

Only when she knew he was gone did she stumble backwards, fingers clinging to her soaking,
freezing clothes. “This is messed up. This is so messed up. What am I going to do Tikki? Oh my
god TIKKI!” Her eyes widened, her hands flying to her purse. As she was about to open it,
however, the Kwami phased out of it, floating above her. “Tikki! Are you ok?! Are you hurt? Are
you going to get another cold?!”

“I’m fine Marinette,” Tikki soothed, and Marinette clutched her chest, almost doubling over in
relief. “But it’s you I’m worried about.”

“I’ll be fine, it was just a dip,” Marinette replied, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s like I said to
Chat, you know the Miraculous Cure will help.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Tikki said with a sigh, nuzzling into the crook of her chosen’s neck. “I meant
emotionally.”

Once again Marinette fell silent, staring into the distance, where Chat Noir had run off to.

“Marinette?” Tikki’s voice rang in her ears, but it seemed so distant to her. Even with Tikki’s
prompting, it still took a while for her to respond.

“I’ll be fine,” she lied, plastering on a fake smile. “Right now, it’s not about me, it’s about making
sure Nathanael is ok. Let’s go Tikki.”

***

It didn’t take long for Chat Noir to catch up to the akuma. Once he’d recharged a very wet and
grumpy Plagg, he tracked the akuma’s movements to a nearby park.

Breaking the lock on the fence (it would repair itself when Ladybug used her special ability) Chat
Noir trod a few paces into the eerie stillness of a place usually throbbing with people. A numbness
settled inside of him, the kind of numbness that comes after feeling too much too quickly. And all
the while his mind viciously attacked him, reminded him of his failures both past and present.

You almost lost her, you almost lost her, you almost lost her played in his head like a mantra, so
many times, so much so that Ladybug and Marinette blended together to make one person. One
person he’d almost lost twice. Both times being his fault. The spiritual representation of his worst
memories to date. His mother was there too. His father. Everyone. He wasn’t strong enough for any
of them- he hadn’t been enough- hadn’t been-

“I guess you’re here for the akuma?”

Nathanael’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he stopped. Peering to the side of the path,
he spotted Nathanael sitting on a park bench, looking about as miserable as Chat felt.

For a split-second rage roared inside him like a towering inferno, and his lips curled. Because it
was his fault too- the akuma. Nathanael had unwittingly almost caused Marinette’s death.
Alongside Chat, he was the main reason she’d been hurt. He was the reason she was in that
situation to begin with. In that moment, Chat loathed Nathanael, his akuma, and everything it stood
for.
But, as quickly as his anger had reared its ugly head, it faded. Nathanael looked up at him, an
akuma on a park bench of all things, his eyes glistening as he held out the stylus pen of his tablet.
“It’s in here, I swear. Take it and give it to Ladybug. I don’t need it anymore. I guess, really, I
never needed it. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to go home now.”

Wordlessly, Chat Noir took the offending item from Nathanael’s hand. When he did, Nathanael
nodded glumly, standing up and walking away until he disappeared from view, fading out of sight
as he slipped into the shadows and went where the lights didn’t reach him. He left the tablet
behind.

Chat made no efforts to follow him. To comfort the victim where he normally would always.
Instead he stood there, silently, looking down at the pen in his hand and fighting very hard not to
crush it to pieces. A flurry of emotions, each one more extreme than the last, whirled inside him.
Each emotion fought for control. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do.

Once again, his train of thought was disturbed by the arrival of his favourite spotted hero.

Ladybug landed next to him, graceful and elegant, smiling widely.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “Did you track down the akuma? Where is he?”

Chat lowered his head. He could hardly stand to look at her, but handed her Nathanael’s pen
regardless. “He’s gone.”

“He’s gone?!” she spluttered, her eyes widening as she stepped closer. Chat felt himself wilt at her
words, even though her voice held no form of rebuke. In fact- she seemed baffled. That was almost
worse. “What- I mean- Chat did you just let him go? I mean he could be a danger to himself right
now! He’s an akuma, he’s not in his right frame of mind- did you talk to him at least?”

Chat couldn’t stand it any longer. He threw his arms around her, pulling her into a bone crushing
hug.

“I’m sorry, Ladybug,” he whimpered, apologising for far more than he was letting on. “I’m sorry.
I’m so, so sorry.”

Ladybugs arms were limp by her sides and she seemed to tense before sighing and wrapping them
around his middle. “It’s ok.”

“No, I- I don’t. Ugh I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. My brain feels soggy,” he
choked, reluctantly stepping away from her, only to meet her fond gaze with a frown of confusion.

“Well, you are all wet,” she chuckled lightly, gesturing to his hair and then to her shoulder, which
had gathered little droplets of water. They caught the light, glistened like glitter. Chat had to blink
heavily to look away. “Silly cat, always taking everything so seriously. You know it’s all alright in
the end, don’t you? And you’re a big part of the reason why.”

Chat smiled at that. Genuinely smiled. Gratefulness warmed him where he’d previously felt so
cold. He really didn’t deserve her. “Thanks, Little Lady.”

“Any time Kitty-Cat!” she beamed, brushing the remaining water drops from her suit. “I’m always
here if you need to talk. Or give hugs to. I hear I give excellent hugs. It’s my right as a superhero to
say so.”

“I guess I have to agree to that, right?” Chat teased. It was weak, feeble sounding even to his own
ears. But it was good to banter with her. Bantering made things feel like they were normal, like
they’d be ok. Still, he didn’t want to linger any more than necessary. “You know I’d love to stay
and talk more LB, but I promised your friend I’d take her home. If you don’t mind? Don’t freak out
but… she almost got hurt today. I’m sorry. I couldn’t look after her the way you thought I could.
But I want to make it right.”

Ladybug didn’t speak for a while, an unreadable expression on her face, and Chat worried that he’d
upset her in failing to protect her friend. He braced himself for the anger, the disappointment, the
justifiably harsh words.
They never came. Instead, Ladybug reached up to ruffle his hair, standing on tip-toes to kiss his
forehead fondly. He naturally lowered himself to her height level, used to the friendly gesture by
now. “You’re too sweet for your own good you know, Kitty-Cat. I’m not mad.” There was
something so warm, so caring, in her tone that Chat leaned into her touch, closed his eyes. “Of
course, I’m not mad. I’m sure she isn’t either. I bet you did everything you could to help her. I’m-
I’m really glad you were there. I’m so glad it was you there.”

When he looked up at her again, her smile widened. It lit up her whole face. “There’s nobody else
I’d trust so much.”

Her hand was still in his hair, but the petting had stalled to an almost gentle caress. A moment of
silence passed between them, before Ladybug snapped her hand back to her side, a faint redness
apparent on her cheeks, even in the dark. “Umm,” her voice warbled and she giggled lightly, “I- I
know this is totally ask a lot- I mean a lot to ask- but could you check Nathanael gets through the
park ok whilst I do the whole cleansing stuff? It’s not safe for a civilian to be in the park all by
themselves. Marinette will be ok waiting a few minutes more. The parks not so big and you know
like I don’t want Nathanael to get robbed or anything. So, if you could totally watch him that
would be swell. Ohmygod did I just say swell?!”

“LB,” Chat chuckled, stroking his chin in an attempt to cover up just how amused he was at her
familiar ramblings. He wasn’t too worried about being caught though. Currently she was looking
at the akuma’s pen as though she wanted to impale herself with it. “It’s alright. I’ll watch him. As
if I could ever say no to you.”

Ladybug’s head snapped up at that, her eyes wide for a reason Chat couldn’t fathom. There was a
flash of something in them, but it was too dark to see, and she lowered her chin again, with a frown
this time. “I should get this cleansed.”

Chat didn’t understand her shift in mood, but agreed with her nonetheless. They shared a hurried
goodbye, and he left her company in higher spirits than he’d been before. He still worried for
Marinette, wanted to get back to her as soon as possible, but Ladybug always had a certain knack
for being the sun, parting the grey clouds whenever they formed in his mind.

“Chat?”

He paused, tilting his torso so he was staring back at Ladybug, who gave him a solemn look. “Are
you going to be ok? Seriously.”

Sighing, Chat Noir shuffled from foot-to-foot, wanting to be as honest as he could. Aside from his
identity, he’d never really hidden something from her this way. It didn’t sit well with him, but what
choice did he have?

Regardless of how secret his relationship with Marinette was, he still owed his partner of four years
some semblance of an explanation for his odd behaviour. “I don’t know,” he answered, and that
was the truth. “Not right now, but I think I will be. I guess I have a lot of things on my mind.
Sometimes it’s hard to make sense of them. Feels like following a red dot, only to have it
disappear.”

Ladybug chuckled at his awful attempt at a half-joke. “Yeah. Yeah, I know how that feels Kitty-
Cat. But like I said, any time you need to talk…” she left the last part unspoken, didn’t feel the
need to clarify further.

“Likewise, Little Lady,” he replied and with a flick of his tail, and a green glint in his eye, he
vanished into the shadows.

***

Ladybug landed in the spot her civilian self was last seen, having cleansed the akuma and sent it on
its way. Hiding between the wall and a rubbish bin, she ducked and de-transformed, admiring the
power of the Miraculous Cure as well as its effect. Her bones no longer felt frozen, her hair was dry
and her dress was back to its normal state- no repairs required.

Marinette stepped out from behind the bin, heart pumping, half-terrified by the conversation she’d
just had with Chat, and by the realisations she’d come to.

“Marinette?” Tikki prompted, before Marinette shook her head, eyes tearful as she crossed her arms
over herself.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go on lying to him,” she choked. “It’s not fair. I have to tell him
my feelings. I have to end this. This can’t go on.”
Tikki flew forwards, landing on her shoulder. “You only listened to your heart Marinette. Sure,
your decisions haven’t been…entirely wise. But it’s not like you wanted to trick him into a
relationship, or you deliberately set out to deceive him. He came to you first remember?”

“But I should have told him who I was, or at least admitted my feelings as Ladybug sooner instead
of being so afraid,” Marinette gritted her teeth, suddenly angry with herself. “This was wrong. It
was wrong to withhold the truth from him for so long. He’s my partner, Tikki. What should I do? I
don’t know what to do… it feels like anything I do will hurt him. And I can’t hurt him. I can’t. I’ve
made such a mess of this. I want to fix it, because if I don’t fix it now, I feel like something bad is
going to happen. What do you think Tikki?”

Tikki floated up to her face, giving her a gentle kiss on the nose. “I can only tell you to do what you
think is best Marinette. You’re a kind person, you always have been. I know you’d never want to
hurt someone, especially not someone you love so much. Love can’t last unless you’re both honest
with each other and yourselves. Love thrives on honesty, not secrets.”

When Marinette cringed, Tikki widened her eyes and waved her paws frantically. “I’m not saying
something bad will happen, like you think it will! I only think that sneaking around won’t make
either of you happy. You both care for each other a lot. He certainly thinks the world of you. I can
tell by the way he looks at you. So, I really don’t think either of you are going to be satisfied hiding
your relationship for much longer. Something has to give, and I thi-”

Tikki froze mid-sentence. Her antennae twitching. Without another word, she flew into Marinette’s
bag, disappearing from view. Marinette wheeled around, just in time to see Chat Noir approaching.

He stopped when he noticed she’d seen him. The pair stood several feet apart, on the bank of the
Seine, with nothing but the running river beside them to break the stillness of the moment. Even
Marinette’s heart had ceased beating.

What a pretty picture they made, she thought. The superhero and the civilian, standing so close yet
so far apart. Two people, seemingly belonging to two different worlds, together at a time when the
city slumbered and the moon was their guiding light towards each other, the breeze pushing and
pulling them so gently. A perfect metaphor for their relationship; their minds always pushing them
apart, their hearts always pulling them back together again.

The pretty picture was broken, or maybe turned real, when Chat stepped forwards. In three large
strides, he was in front of her, sweeping her into his arms. Her feet left the floor, and she buried her
face into his now dried hair. One of his cat ears brushed her cheek, and it flicked in response to her.
“You’re okay,” Chat whispered, letting her down only a fraction, so that he could pick her legs up
and carry her princess style. “You’re ok.”

Marinette was glad she could avoid looking directly at him like this. She didn’t think she could
stand to see the earnestness in his gaze. His relief was infectious, however, so she silently tucked
herself further into his embrace and nodded.

Taking that as his cue, Chat nuzzled against her and told her to hold on tight as he carried them
away, back to her home. It wasn’t a long journey, as she lived so close to the Notre Dame, but it
gave Marinette time to close her eyes, to surround herself in the comfort of his embrace. Because
honestly? She had no clue how many more moments like this they had left. She had to savour
every last one.

The thought destroyed her. Just a little bit.

“Home sweet home,” Chat grinned as they finally landed on her balcony, and Marinette’s heart
swelled with affection for him. She knew he was putting on a brave face for her, trying hard to be
strong. For her.

She loved him. She loved him and wanted so badly to say it. But how could she say it? To him,
they’d barely known each other for two months. He seemed to care about her a lot, seemed to have
fun with her and loved listening to her stories. Occasionally he told her his own too, ones she
already knew but sounded fresh whenever he told them to her, locked away in her bedroom. There
was no way, however, that he could possibly love her back. Not so soon. She knew her Kitty-Cat
was the sentimental type, but could he really have fallen so fast?

“You both care for each other a lot. He certainly thinks the world of you. I can tell by the way he
looks at you.”

Marinette walked over to the door leading back down to her room, she lifted the latch, making eye
contact with Chat. Still not trusting herself to speak, she beckoned him to follow her instead, before
dropping down out of sight.

Chat watched her go, torn. Now that Ladybug was gone, now everything was over, the weight of
his stupidity had come back to hit him full force. The mistakes he’d made since the very beginning
of his relationship with Marinette.

God, why was he such a fraidy-cat? Why couldn’t he have told her just how much she meant to
him as Adrien? Granted he’d never, ever, intended to be with her as Chat. In an ideal world, he’d
have dated Marinette, treated her the way she should have been from the very start, eventually
revealing his superhero identity as long as Ladybug was ok with it. They’d always talked to each
other in regards to identity reveals to other people (and staunchly avoided any conversations
regarding identity reveals to each other but that was a whole different mess which Chat was
unprepared to deal with at that moment in time).

That all depended, of course, on whether Marinette would have agreed to date him. If she hadn’t?
He would have moved on.

But it hadn’t gone that way. It was like this instead. Somehow the threads had gotten tangled.
They’d tripped and fallen into a web which he was now trying desperately to get out of. Because he
couldn’t have this again, he couldn’t let her down again, he couldn’t lose her.

And in order not to lose her, he had to be true to her.

He had to tell her.

He had to tell her who he was.

Ladybug would forgive him, she’d understand that this was a delicate situation, she’d understand
the need to stay truthful to someone you loved. Of that he was sure.

He had to tell her. He had to. He couldn’t leave it another minute.

So, he climbed down the ladders, all the while knowing that he could very well be climbing them
soon- never to return, until he came to a stop on the lower level of Marinette’s bedroom. She stood
with her back to him, kicking off her shoes and delicately placing her bag on her desk, lightly
patting it. The cuteness of the gesture made him blush and he turned his gaze to the mannequin
instead. He had to resist. He had to be strong.

Making his way over to mannequin, he was startled to see the outfit he’d commissioned from her as
Adrien, already near its completion. He focused on it, admired the intricate details, fingers lightly
skimming the fur around the jacket. It was easier than focusing on the way his Adam’s apple
throbbed weirdly, or how his tongue felt so dry, how even with his superpowers he felt powerless
under her gaze.

“I was working on it when Nathanael arrived,” Marinette explained. “In the craziness that
followed, I forgot to put all my stuff away.”

“Are there any pins I should watch for then? Wouldn’t want to get one stuck in my paws,” he
joked, his voice cracking as she rested her hand on his. It was too much, it was all too much.

“No don’t worry. We’re out of the danger zone,” she smiled, eyes sparkling, and Chat didn’t have
the heart to tell her how very wrong she was. “I’m really glad you were there tonight Chat. Thank
you, so much. For everything. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

She hugged him then. A soft embrace where, if Chat closed his eyes, he could imagine something
like love coming from her. What fantasies he could concoct! As if he could ever hope that she
would love him. Maybe one day. Maybe when he was finally honest with her. But not now,
certainly not now.

They pulled back, and the kiss she placed on his lips was as soft as her hug had been, but much
briefer. Neither of them went very far.

This was it. This was the moment. Chat knew he couldn’t deny it any longer, couldn’t hold back
anymore.

Say it! His mind cried as he froze, staring at Marinette’s suddenly quietened expression. She
seemed to be in her own little world. Say it now! Be honest with yourself, be honest for her!

“I love you.”

And there it was. The thing he absolutely did not want to admit. Under any circumstances. He’d
accidentally blurted it out, in a moment of sheer desperation. As if something like his love for her
could save him.

What have I done?!

But it had saved him. It had. Marinette had taken his hand and brought him into a world full of
happiness and colour, had allowed him to find people he could care for and who would actually
care for him in return, no questions asked. She’d breathed life into his decaying civilian side. She’d
given him so much, and he was still trying to catch up to her, still trying to give her the moon when
she’d already gifted him the sun.

Now he stood, with his arms wide, with her filling the space between them, her heart facing his
own. Now she stood, having heard half of his confession, and Chat had every intention of telling
her exactly who he was, of telling her everything.

Until she uttered the phrase, “I love you too,” and his resolve turned to ash.

Chat lips crashed onto hers and Marinette responded in kind. Yet all the while, her mind screamed
at her- over and over again.

This was wrong.

This was so wrong.

They needed to stop.

She needed to stop this. Now.

But he loved her! He said he loved her. Three words, and suddenly all of the late nights spent
pining, the lonely patrols, the longing gazes, the empty space in her heart which she’d left for him,
it was all worth something. It all meant something. Her love for him wasn’t a waste, had never
been, because he’d somehow, someway, fallen in love with Marinette. With the girl behind the
mask.

So she kissed him, almost knocking over her mannequin as they stumbled backwards, and Chat
broke the kiss to trail loving, heated kisses from her jawline to her neck. She moaned in response,
losing herself to the feeling of Chat, of him holding her, his hands roaming freely and near-
frantically, as though he were trying to learn her every curve. Standing on her toes, Marinette
clutched his hair tightly, tugging it back until she could get at his neck instead, leaving hot, open-
mouthed kisses against the skin there. He gasped, something between a groan and a purr escaped
his chest and it set Marinette’s soul of fire, made her crave more, more, more.

Instead of telling him the truth, she allowed him to pick her up. Wrapping her legs around his
waist, and her tongue around his, Marinette felt her back come to rest against her wall. She used it
to tilt her hips, and felt him shudder against her.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, breaking apart for air, both of them panting still, yet
coming back together again because it seemed as though they’d always be that way. “I love you,”
he said again, as he nipped her neck, and her fingernails dug into his back. “I love you Marinette, I
love you so much.”

He said it almost like a prayer, Marinette thought, and wasn’t that the worst thing of all? How
reverently he spoke of her? How even at their most intimate they could still wear masks, both real
and metaphorical?

They were running on fumes. This relationship, the way it was, couldn’t stand. Tikki was right
about that. But maybe for tonight, just for tonight, they could forget that. They could forget about
the ticking clock, they could forget about the secrets, and instead only remember the love they
shared.

Maybe, just for tonight, things could be perfect.

Marinette pulled Chat’s lower lip between her teeth ever-so-slightly, and he moaned, pressing into
her, his fingers gripping her thighs tighter. They were sure to leave marks. Marinette liked the idea.
She wanted to be marked. She wanted to mark him too. She wanted his civilian self to wake up and
remember her, to look in the mirror in the morning and remember how her lips felt on his neck,
biting and sucking the skin there until a little bruise formed.

She pushed his collar as far down as it would go, and did exactly what she wanted. Chat responded
by crying out her name and she smirked against his skin.
And then her feet were dropped onto the floor, and her arms were pinned by her head, and Chat
was growling as he kissed her again. She felt dizzy, breathless, completely lost to a world of their
own making, a world which they’d both set alight and were now dancing amidst the flames
knowing it was only a matter of time until they burned.

“You- you say- you love me-” Marinette panted in-between kisses, and Chat lifted his head. Never
had she seen green eyes so dark, and it sent a shiver straight through her.

“I do,” he replied, his features turning gentle as he brushed his nose against hers.

Squirming out of his hold on her wrists, she used one finger and prodded him backwards. Her heart
raced as she reached up to the zipper on the back of her dress, tugging it down as she watched
Chat’s eyes widen, his jaw drop.

“Prove it,” she said as her dress fell to the floor.

***

Alya: I don’t understand!!!!!! DID YOU BONE OR NOT?! XXXXX

Marinette grinned. Walking down the street, she typed a response to her friend and half tripped
over a poor stranger’s dog. Apologising profusely, she made her way to the coffee shop near
campus.

Mari: Yeah we totally boned. Didn't ya know? That suit is just one big condom. Seriously
Alya? Xx

It took a minute for Alya to respond, allowing Marinette time to soak in the beautiful day around
her. The sun was shining, spring was making an appearance, and for once she was determined not
to worry about her relationship troubles. Not after the way things has gone last night anyway.

Alya: Ok first of all I did not raise you to sass me this way. Only other people.

Alya: Second of all if you didn't bone what DID you do?

Mari: ....Stuff <3

Marinette smirked to herself, knocking into someone again right as she reached the outside of the
coffee shop. When she looked up, she was surprised to see a familiar mop of blonde hair and her
heart lurched, before she realised it was Adrien.

Though it was Adrien like she’d never seen him. Adrien with a rapidly reddening face, his hair
dishevelled with traces of cowlicks which refused to be tamed, his clothes rumpled all apart from
the scarf wrapped around his neck. Which was strange, she thought, considering it was shaping up
to be such a warm day. “Woah Adrien, I didn’t take you for a party-goer,” she teased, giving him a
friendly hug in greeting. “I’m impressed Mr. PhD still has a wild side. Fun night?”

Adrien was completely silent, his eyes darting from her to…anywhere else. It looked like he was
trying to be polite but, at the same time, was doing everything his power not to look at her. She
panicked, looking down at herself to check she’d gotten dressed properly, she’d been in a bit of a
daze this morning and sometimes the t-shirt she was wearing could get a little see through,
depending on the bra she wore with it. A quick inspection told her she had nothing to worry about
on that front, so what was his deal?
“Fun!” Adrien blurted out and Marinette might have thought his response strange (as high and
squeaky as it was) were it not for the fact that her phone chose that moment to ping as Alya’s
response came through. “Yeah- yeah. It was fun. Cool. Kinda tired now though, you know?” He
gave a huge yawn in response, stretching his arms above his head and promptly dropping half his
research papers behind him.

Marinette smiled kindly whilst Adrien scrambled to pick up the documents. She knelt down to help
him absent-mindedly, one of their hands brushing as they reached for the same document. She paid
it no mind, as half of her attention was on him, the other half on her phone and a now hysterical
Alya.

Alya: STUFF?! WHAT KIND OF STUFF?! I swear to GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Well take it easy today!” she chirped, once they’d gathered all his research papers. “If you’re on
campus ‘til late again, let me know and I’ll send some cookies your way.”

“Ok, that- err- thanks Pr- Mari. Thanks Marinette, I’ll see you tomorrow!” he stammered, fixing
her with an odd stare, before ducking his head and hurrying away, his face redder than she’d ever
seen it. Wow. It really must have been a wild night, she thought, for him to be so completely
ruffled. She’d have to go out with him some time. A morning spent so unkempt surely meant a
night well spent.

“Hey Mari.”

Marinette turned around to see the person she’d come to meet. Standing opposite her looking
guilty, almost wilting, was Nathanael.

Mari: I'm sorry Nath is here I gottagoloveyoubye xxxxxx

She smiled. Putting her phone on silent and back into her bag, she stepped closer to hug him.
“Nath! I’m glad you’re here.”

Nathanael seemed surprised at first, but hugged her back before rapidly pulling away. “Before you
say anything else, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for putting you in that situation, and
even before that I’m sorry for confessing I liked you when my feelings weren’t genuine.”

Marinette took his hands and squeezed them in her own. “Nath. No, it’s ok. Really. I know what it
feels like ok? I’ve done something similar. Being single for ages sucks when you don’t want to be
single anyway. It makes you do crazy stuff and see things that aren’t there. And I really didn’t
make things easier. I should have told you from the start that I didn’t return your feelings… I just
didn’t know what to say without hurting you.”

Nath nodded, running a hand down his face. “It’s ok. I get it. I’m just so embarrassed though. I did
a lot of soul searching last night, after it happened. I think what you said before, about staying
single for a while, I think it was getting to me.”

“It gets to everyone sometimes, everyone who’s looking for love anyway,” Marinette agreed,
motioning for them to enter the coffee shop. “But this won’t change anything between us? We’re
still friends, right? Even though I acted like a jerk?”

Nathanael scoffed as they joined the line for the counter. “It’s not like I acted much better. And of
course we’re still friends! You did nothing wrong. The only thing this changed is that now I’m
officially giving up on love completely. Men and women both.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Marinette whined, as they approached the counter, where a handsome, tanned
barista was waiting to take their order. Prodding her finger into Nathanael’s shoulder, she prompted
him to order first. “You never know when love will hit you. Like all ka-blammy, in the movies!”

Nathanael wasn’t listening, and Marinette was about to pout but her frown turned to a sly grin as
she saw where his attention was diverted to. Seemed that Nathanael had noticed the good-looking
barista as well.
“So that’s a venti vanilla latte for the dashing redhead,” the barista said with a grin and slight
Italian accent. Nathanael flushed before the barista turned to Marinette. “And for his lovely lady
companion?”

“Oh we’re not companions,” Marinette chuckled, eyes flicking to Nathanael and back to the
barista. “Just friends.”

The barista’s eyebrow quirked. “Really now?”

“Thanks for taking my order!” Nathanael squeaked, tapping his card on the reader and
disappearing to the other side of the counter so quickly he almost blurred at the edges.

Marinette shook her head fondly. “He’s shy,” she explained as she ordered her drink from the
cashier next to the flirtatious Italian and headed down the bar to flick Nathanael’s ear. “Hey! That
was rude you know! Didn’t you see that? He was totally into you!”
 “No he wasn’t!”

“Was! Go tell him you think he’s cute! I wouldn’t normally say that ‘cause, you know, he’s
working and all. But he was checking you oooout! He called you dashing. Dashing. You can’t
argue with that!”

Nathanael looked like he had every intention of arguing with her but, as if by the will of the
universe, his drink arrived. On the sleeve was a name, and a phone number to go along with it.
“Wow!” Marinette giggled, impressed, whilst Nathanael stared dumbly. “He’s bolder than my
macchiato! Nath you’ve scored! Hate to say I told you so.”

It was then her phone buzzed frantically in her bag, and she had to check it lest she annoy Tikki.
The messages she saw made her almost double over with laughter.

Alya: WHAT?! NO!

Alya: Mari you can't leave me hanging like this

Alya: I will END YOU

Alya: OMG

Alya: MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG!!!!111!!

Well, Marinette thought, she’d just have to leave her best friend guessing for the time being.
Because she couldn’t really explain what had happened last night over text. To be honest, she
couldn’t really describe it to herself.

But she couldn’t help but feel, sitting outside the café, teasing a very flustered Nathanael amidst
flashes of memories from the previous night, of her and Chat’s shared confessions, that maybe
things would turn out ok.

Maybe, just maybe, it would all work out.

Chapter End Notes

Those of you who've read Smoulder might have spotted a character cameo in this
chapter ;D

Foxytomato lives in this universe guys!!! It was Eden's idea and when she said it I just
freaked out and I couldn't say no!!! Blame her for the total self indulgence >_< lol! But
we had to give Nath the happily ever after he deserves bless his heart! <3 <3 <3

GAH I loved writing this chapter!!!! And Eden's drawings!!!! And just...GAAAAAH
*internally squeals*

Anyways next up we have the Origins Arc! It's Mari and Chat's 6th month
anniversary, and Chat decides to tell Mari the story of how he and LB first met (not
knowing he's repeating the story to someone first hand lol someone help these two
idiots).

We hope you enjoyed this chapter! Follow us on tumblr here: edendaphne

midnightstarlightwrites

You can also read more about my original novel, some progress, art and short stories
here (it's fairy tales meets Jane Austen): thegirlfairytalesforgot

And last but not least, we're going to be attempting to do audiobooks of each chapter of
When Duty and Desire Meet, so if you follow us on tumblr you'll be able to listen to
my silly English accent trying to pronounce "Chat" lololol XD So stay tuned for that!

Stay miraculous guys! Lets enjoy S2 together!

 Stolen Moments
Chapter Notes

Heyo!!!! This isn't origins, but last week I was struggling writing my novel due to
being sick (I'm still a little sick) and so I decided to write a quick WDDM oneshot
instead! I gave it to Eden as a surprise and she did some art for it, and suggested we
put it on AO3! ^O^

We're still working on origins! It's gonna take a lil bit of time, please bear with us >_<
especially as Christmas is coming up- things are getting real busy real fast. But I want
to thank you all for how incredibly supportive you were in your comments from the
last chapter! We feel incredibly blessed to have such wonderful people liking and
following our story, so thank you! <3<3 <3

***Notes on this oneshot: This oneshot is kind of an AU of this AU. It's a

potential "What if" scenario that could happen after the identity reveals go
down. But who's to say this will actually happen in the main plotline?
Ohohohoho~ *evil cackles* Enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Adrien loved moments like this.

Pinned between the door and his girlfriend’s lovely figure, he felt himself growing hot and dizzy
under her kisses. Yet he refrained from crying out her name, or for taking it any further. It wasn’t
exactly the best situation to do anything besides make out and desperately wish they were
somewhere more private.

“So did you lure me here to make sweet music, my lady?” he teased, referring to their new hiding
spot in the music cupboard, in between short gasps for air as Marinette trailed hot kisses down his
jawline.

Marinette nibbled his neck in response, giggling as she did so. “You’re impossible. To pun even
when an awesome girl is kissing you.” Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up and kissed his nose.
“And I did not lure you here. You followed me!”

“You started it,” Adrien teased, playing with a loose lock of hair at the side of her face. “You can’t
walk past me giving me bedroom eyes-”

“Bedroom eyes!?"

“- Yup! Bedroom eyes. Can’t use them and not expect me to follow you.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, wiggling out of his grasp to search the cupboard for whatever it was
Nino had asked her to grab. At least, that’s what Adrien assumed she was here for. Why else would
a fashion student go to the music department of their university? “A- I did not use bedroom eyes,
and B- you know that’s only about eighty-three percent stalkery of you, right?”
Adrien ducked after her, half-chasing her around a dusty shelf filled with handheld drums.
Grinning from ear to ear, he caught her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Only eight-three
percent? I need to up my game. You doing anything tonight? Mind if this poor stray follows you
home?”

“God it’s a good thing you’re pretty,” Marinette sighed, but the falseness of her exasperation was
given away by the smirk on her lips and the spark of mirth in her eyes. Adrien’s heart skipped a
beat. “I don’t think I could stand it if you weren’t.”

“I knew you only liked me for my body,” Adrien gasped, flopping down onto her shoulder and
letting out a huge fake sob. “Such betrayal, love bug! My heart can’t take it!”

“You’ll live,” Marinette snorted in response, patting him on the head. “Or maybe you won’t. But if
you survive then sure, you’re welcome to stalk- I mean- walk me home.”

Lifting up his head, Adrien smiled. Leaning his forehead against hers, he let himself rest there for a
moment. Sensing his change of mood, Marinette sighed in contentment. Her smirk turned into a
small smile, the last thing Adrien saw before he closed his eyes and let himself relax.

There were times where he felt like this wasn’t real, that he’d not been so lucky as to find his best
friend and love of his life wrapped up in one wonderful person. Truthfully, he feared it. The
happiness he felt seemed almost like it wasn’t meant to last, like clouds after a rainstorm, just
before the sun was about to reappear. He clung to moments such as these, how quickly they could
go from heated to teasing to loving. He had to. Everything about his past suggested that it wasn’t
going to last.

But then Marinette would do something to remind him that he wasn’t his past. Things that seemed
so simple, but were everything to him. Things that made him remember that the moments weren’t
fleeting. Things like reaching up to take her hands in his, pulling them to her lips and whispering a
fond “I love you,” to make him remember that it was real. That his past was his past, and they
could make their future whatever they wanted it to be.

Adrien loved moments like this. Stolen moments he could lock away in his mind, to repeat over
and over again until they were as much a part of him as his lungs or his heart.

But what Adrien really loved the most, was the fact that Marinette was such a good partner in
crime. Stealing those moments right along with him.

Although, judging from the fact that they were superheroes, he thought he ought to get a better
analogy. He made a mental note to do so when he wasn’t so utterly distracted by the girl in his
arms.

“I love you too,” he whispered, pouring every bit of emotion he had into the look he sent her way.
“And you’re giving me bedroom eyes again.”

“Not again.” Marinette pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulder, her eyes heavy.
“Just for the first time.”

It was as Adrien was preparing for another one of their stolen moments that three large knocks
reverberated from the music room door. Marinette squeaked, leaping away from Adrien whilst
Adrien tried to wipe the lipstick off of his face.

“DUDES” Nino’s voice echoed through the closed door. He did not sound pleased. “CAN YOU
STOP TRYING TO MAKE BABIES FOR FIVE FREAKING MINUTES AND GET ME MY
DAMN SPARE GUITAR STRINGS? I HAVE AN EXAM IN LIKE A HALF HOUR!”

Marinette turned a delightful shade of pink, though she didn’t try to deny Nino’s accusations.
Quickly snatching the strings she’d offered to get for him, she walked over to the door and opened
it with a sheepish smile. “Sorry Nino.”

Nino raised his eyebrow. Looking between the pair, he shook his head but thanked Marinette for
the strings nonetheless. “‘Kay,” he shrugged, offering a little salute. “As you were.”

As he closed the door behind him, leaving Adrien and Marinette alone, Adrien couldn’t help but
chuckle. “And here I was thinking Nino stole our stolen moment!”

Marinette buried her head in her hands, the tips of her ears red enough to rival her ladybug suit.
Chapter End Notes

Follow Eden on Tumblr here:

edendaphne

Follow me on Tumblr here:

midnightstarlightwrites
 Origins: Prologue
Chapter Notes

YAY!!!! Origins is here!!!! ^_^

Once again thank you for supporting us so much! Hope you enjoy the start of this new
arc!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

~
Sunlight streamed through the windows. Outside, Chat could hear the buzzing of a bee and his ear
twitched, but he remained put. It would take something a lot bigger than a bee to get him to move
from his current spot, nestled on Marinette’s bed, playing with her hair as his girlfriend snoozed
against his chest.

He sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“You ok?”

Marinette lifted up her head, as if sensing his mind was a little far from the paradise it should’ve
been. Her thumb stroked against his chest in a subconscious comforting manner and he pulled her
tighter in reassurance. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” she giggled, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth, and he tilted his head in
response, pulling her into a softer kiss. “I’ve heard thinking is a dangerous pastime. Whatcha
thinking about?”

“Ah nothing, it’s stupid,” Chat looked away, embarrassed to have been caught out. Because it was
stupid- it was. Before she had a chance to press further, he perked up, bringing them both to a
sitting position. “But I do have something for you! For our anniversary. Well I guess it’s not
technically an anniversary, though I’ve never been in a relationship for six months before so I-
err-”

He was saved from his bashful babbling by Marinette, who casually bopped him on the nose.
“Easy, Fluffy, I bought you a gift too.”

“Fluffy?” His mouth dropped open, but he didn’t have a chance to respond to the nickname before
Marinette hurled herself off the bed, almost tripping down the ladder as she beckoned him to
follow her. He complied, letting her lead him to her desk.

“Ta-dah!” she cried, beaming as she held out the gift. “I made this myself years ago. It’s always
brought me luck but…well-” she lowered her head for a moment, a pink tinge to her cheeks. “I
don’t need luck anymore. Not since I met you.”
Tentatively, Chat reached out to take the bracelet from her. It was intricate full of beads of varying
sizes, and looked like it had taken hours to craft. He stared at it for a while, a lump forming in his
throat.

Nobody had ever given him something so personal and, whilst it was a gesture that meant more to
him than he could ever put into words, it also made him acutely aware of the gaping hole in his
chest. The hole where things like this should’ve been, an everyday part of life that he’d never
gotten the chance to experience. It was moments like this that reminded him just how deprived
he’d been. “Thank you,” he whispered, still staring at the little charm. He couldn’t look at
Marinette, couldn’t look up and see the love he’d been lacking his whole life. Not now.

He felt her step into his space, wrapping her arms around his middle and snuggling into his side.
He smiled, and the lump in his throat faded into obscurity. “Don’t meowntion it!” she said with a
giggle, then wrinkled her nose, looking more than a little offended by her own pun. It was too cute.

Chat grinned, kissing the top of her head. “The gift I have for you- I hid it when I came over. Check
under your pillows.”
Marinette’s eyebrow quirked and she pulled out of their embrace to shoot him a suspicious look.
“You’re not just saying that so you can check out my butt as I climb the ladder, are you?”

“Absolutely not!” Chat pressed a hand to his heart and Marinette hummed in disbelief, even as she
slipped out of his arms and made her way back up to her bed. His eyes trailed after her. “Though
now you mention it, that’s an unintended purrk.”

He was rewarded for his flirtations by a cushion flying straight at his face. Chat laughed, cuddling
up to the cushion as he waited for Marinette to find his present. He hoped she would like it…

“Chat NOIR!”

Ok. Maybe not.

Marinette was stomping back towards him, face red and full of righteous… fury? Embarrassment?
Awe? Chat didn’t know but the look (coupled with the shrieking) made him unexpectedly terrified.
“Princess?” He replied tentatively.

She shook her head, showing him the red box which contained her present. “I can’t accept this!”

His heart sunk and he tilted his head, trying not to look too hurt. God, he knew it. He just knew
when he bought it that it was dumb. He should’ve bought her something practical, like a lifetimes
supply of sewing materials, or an internship at his father’s fashion house- though it’d be
complicated to explain the latter one. “Is- is something wrong with it?”

Marinette gaped at him, then at the box, then at him again and Chat got the distinct feeling he was
missing something. After spluttering through a few garbled syllables, she managed to blurt out
“CARTIER!”

Chat blinked, tilting his head. “Yeah, that’s where I got it…err…do you not…like…Cartier?”
Maybe he should have gone to Tiffany’s instead.

He’d never seen Marinette’s eyes so wide. It would have been cute, if he wasn’t so lost. “Chat! I-
that’s not- I mean, no. Cartier is fine- good? Amazing! But I can’t accept it- it’s- how did you even
afford it?!”

Oh.

Oh.

It was then that he understood, and he wanted to kick himself. The idea of it being expensive
hadn’t even crossed his mind. Of course Marinette knew the price tag, she was a fashion student!
And now she was standing there, wondering how a seemingly every day, run of the mill superhero
could afford something like a Cartier bracelet.

Shit.

When Chat didn’t reply for a while (frozen in his own stupidity), Marinette prompted him a little
bit. She sighed, stepping forwards. “Chat…”

“I had a cu-paw-n!” he blurted, in a strangled voice.

She frowned. “Chat.”

“I have a superhero salary!”

“No you don’t,” she snorted.

“I’m a cat burglar?”

“Really?”

“…No.”

Marinette laughed, making sure she held the box and didn’t accidentally drop it as her shoulders
shook. “Is this the part where you reveal you’re like, Bruce Wayne? Rich guy by day, black-clad
superhero by night?”

She giggled again, wiping at her eyes, before becoming acutely the aware that she was the only one
laughing. When she glanced back at Chat, at his pale expression and tight lips, her jaw dropped
open again. “Oh my GOD, you arrrre!”

“NO! No,” Chat adjusted his volume to something less incriminating, waving his arms frantically.
Then panicking as the beads on the charm Marinette had given him rattled. He clutched it to his
chest tightly. He’d messed up, he’d messed up so badly. “I’m not rich! My- my parents are rich.”

“That’s just what a rich person says!” Marinette’s eyes sparkled, her face filled with glee. When
Chat’s face dropped, his ears flattening against his head, Marinette patted his arm. “Relax kitty.
I’m just teasing! One of my best friends comes from a wealthy family too. I promise I won’t treat
you differently now I know. Though-” she looked down at the bracelet box- “are you sure this
wasn’t expensive for you? It’s just so much.”

She squirmed looking down. Before, when she’d seen the Cartier box and realised exactly what
he’d bought her, she reacted without thinking. Automatically, she’d assumed she couldn’t accept
such an expensive present. Horrific images had plagued her mind of a starving de-masked Chat
Noir, lying on the street because he’d swapped his rent money for a bracelet. She hadn’t even
looked at it.

When she noticed Chat’s boots, standing underneath the box as he closed the gap between them,
she felt a rush of warmth. Gently, Chat removed the box from her grasp, placing the charm that
she’d given him on the desk nearby. His smile was small, soft and fond as he opened the box.

Marinette couldn’t help but gasp. The bracelet was small, two white gold chains linked by a small
hoop at the end. The word love was twice engraved into the hoop, set with two small diamonds. It
was beautiful, and Marinette was speechless.
“It’s called a Love Bracelet,” he explained, his voice low and full of everything the bracelet
represented. Taking the bracelet from the box, and placing the box beside his own charm, he took
Marinette’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. A breath of air rushed out of her
lungs. She felt dizzy. “I thought about it for ages, which one to get you.” He wrapped it around her
wrist, and the action felt more intimate somehow, than any of their previous encounters. “This one
is small so- if you wear it and it’s ok if you don’t or you don’t like it and want to get a new one- I
thought, you know, that it wouldn’t get in way when you’re sewing or doing art.”

As soon as the clasp was secure, Marinette reached out to the charm. She mirrored Chat’s
movements from before, kissing his gloved hand and then tying the lucky charm to his wrist. For a
moment, they looked and their entwined hands, the diamonds sparkling, the beads bright and full
of life.

There weren’t enough words to describe it. Except. “Happy anniversary, Princess.”

Marinette launched herself at Chat, planting a firm kiss on his lips. He responded just as fiercely,
carrying her back up the ladder. Using one hand to carry her, and the other to climb.

They landed heavily on the bed, Chat cradling her head with one hand, the other on her hip. He
pulled away, smiling. She gazed back, hair fanned out on the pillow, cheeks flushed, the green
ribbons a little ruffled but still holding strong.

God, she was so beautiful.

“I love you,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against hers in a kitten kiss.

“I love you too,” she replied, scratching at his hair. And just like that he melted into her side. She
chuckled as he shuffled into her, exaggerating his movements as he kissed any part of her skin that
he could reach, her shoulder, her neck, her cheek. She squealed when he got to the ticklish part
behind her ear and he beamed. “Even if you are a tease.”

It was just as they were getting into it, that Marinette’s phone (which she was unknowingly lying
on top of) decided to vibrate. As it hit a ticklish spot, she shrieked, launching up on instinct and
colliding head-first with Chat’s nose. Both of them gave a start, yelping with shock.
Chat, being superpowered, was the first to recover. He looked to Marinette, who was clutching her
head. “Princess, are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Gosh your head is like a rock you know,” she mumbled, rubbing the sore spot.

“Yeah, not exactly the hard place I was thinking of when I started kissing you,” he winked as his
tail came to wrap around her waist.

“Ok, I may have killed the mood, but you just desecrated the mood’s corpse!” Marinette laughed,
patting his head. He responded by flopping dramatically on her lap, purring low.

They stayed that way for a while. When Marinette’s phone began to vibrate more, she sighed,
checking her message with a pout. “Alya keeps messaging me about Superhero Day next week.”

Chat sat up, trying to keep his face passive. Superhero Day… the anniversary of his and Ladybug’s
defeat of Hawkmoth and the Puppet Master controlling him. It had been a couple of years since his
defeat, but it was still an emotional time. To commemorate the occasion, people all over France
(and some from all over the world) converged on the Eiffel Tower, to watch a spectacular
fireworks display and dress up in Ladybug and Chat Noir costumes- all to raise money for charity.

“Are you going- to the meet-up?” He asked, feeling a sudden bout of shyness.

Marinette scoffed, then covered her mouth, her eyes wide. The action confused him, so he allowed
her to explain. “No? I mean- yes. Maybe. It’s- yeah.”

Chat frowned. That didn’t really explain much.

Luckily for him, Marinette was in a rambling mood. “I guess I didn’t… err… know if I should be
there or not. This is your time with Ladybug and all. I don’t want to take that away from you. I
know you two are… great friends.”

She looked away from him then, hiding her face behind her hair. And suddenly Chat understood.

Cupping her chin with his fingers, he lifted her head up to face him, and pressed a soft kiss to her
lips.

“Ladybug means the world to me,” he said, voice full of conviction. “I love her a lot. She’s my
best friend, and she’s amazing. But she’s not you.”

Marinette didn’t say anything so Chat went on, stroking her cheek. “There was a time when I had
nobody. I didn’t realise it the time, how lonely and isolated I was. Ladybug- she was one of the
first true friends I ever made, and she helped me a lot. It’s because of her that I’m here now, as
happy as I am. And I am happy, especially with you. She- she means so much to me, and in a way,
it’s because of her I was able to meet you.” He smiled. “There’s no Chat Noir without Ladybug.”

“She’s your best friend,” Marinette was smiling back, but Chat thought he could see a hint of
something sad there. He didn’t like that, so he shuffled closer, kissing her neck.

“The best,” he agreed. “We’ve been through so much together, grown together really. But you
don’t have anything to worry about if that’s what you mean. I may be a bit of a stray, but I’m not
an alley cat.”

“I’m going to pretend I know what you mean,” Marinette giggled but, again, it didn’t seem
completely sincere. What was the matter? Did he say something wrong? “If what I think you mean
is what you mean though, I wasn’t worried about that. I trust you.”
His smile grew ten times brighter, his heart floated. I trust you, I trust you, I trust you. The words
floated through his mind in a blissful, love sick haze.

And then they settled like a dead weight.

She trusted him.

He swallowed, thinking of all the time she looked at Adrien, not Chat, not knowing. Ever since the
night of Nathanael’s akuma, he’d tried to bring up the truth. But the truth always got stuck in his
throat, and his fear held it there. So, he remained, choking and gasping for air until Marinette’s
love and kindness allowed him to shove the truth back down. He’d held if off for so long, and now
they’d admitted they love each other- it was that much more terrifying.

“I trust you too,” he nodded. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. He laid down next to her,
opening his arms wide. “Come here?”

She complied, tucking into his side and resting her head on his chest, nuzzling into a nook that
seemed as though it was made for her, and finally it felt like he could breath.

“I almost lost her once, you know, when Hawkmoth was defeated,” he admitted because damn it if
she was going to trust him so much, he was going to prove he could trust her. “It’s- it’s still hard to
even think about it. I let her down so badly.”

“You did not!” she blurted out, and he stared, startled by her conviction. Marinette, too, seemed
caught off guard by it and the fire in her eyes lessened. “I can’t ever imagine someone as noble and
brave as you letting anyone down, especially not her.”

Chat smiled sadly, staring up at the ceiling. He felt the weight of Marinette’s lucky charm on his
wrist, and closed his eyes, allowing himself to soak in the feeling of his girlfriend’s warmth by his
side, to hear her breathing.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Sometimes this time of year, it gets to me. So much good but so many
horrible memories.”

“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you,” Marinette whispered, burying further into
his embrace. “I’m so sorry, Chat.”

Chat opened his eyes, turning until his eyes met hers. “You don’t have to be sorry! I didn’t even
know you back then. Ugh, I don’t even know why I’m being such a downer! I’m totally ruining
our anniversary, like a big dope.” He sat up, ruffling his own hair in frustration.

“It’s ok to feel sad, you know. You aren’t spoiling anything,” Marinette reassured, patting his arm.

Chat didn’t say anything, he simply smiled sadly at her. After all, how could she know that he’d
been told the exact opposite for most of his life?

“Do you want to hear about how we met? I’m sure you remember some of it, but it’s a much
happier story.”

Marinette gave him a look, one which he couldn’t read, before tugging him back down to her bed.

“Sure, who doesn’t love a good bedtime story?”

“It’s the afternoon, Princess.”

 “I’m a student, Chat, bedtime is any time.”

Chat laughed, pulling her close. “Ok, point taken. Well, it all began four years ago…”

Chapter End Notes

Ok before I run off with Eden into the abyss of squeals and happy times, I do have to
take a moment out to say something important. In between this chapter and the last, we
had a couple of instances of people plagiarising the whole of When Duty and Desire
Meet (art included!), and posting it on other sites. We get reposts of the art a fair
amount, which unfortunately only Eden can deal with, but we've never had people
steal the whole fanfiction before. It's happened with a few of my other fics too, like
Smoulder and All That Jazz.

I'm asking you kindly now, to please not repost my fanfictions and especially don't
claim it as your own! I spent many, many hours writing this fic and Eden is the same
with drawing the art for it. Please don't steal it and pretend it's your own. Please don't
repost it full stop. The fact that we had to deal with these instances of theft meant there
was a delay in getting this chapter out T^T Be kind please! Don't steal our work!

Thank you ^_^ We really hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Find Eden here: Edendaphne
Find me here: midnightstarlightwrites
 Origins Part One
Chapter Notes

The adventures of Babybug and Derp Noir begin!

Enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The day Adrien Agreste was flung into the air, smacking face-first into a billboard of himself, was
the day he realised he really didn’t have a handle on the whole ‘being an adult’ thing.

Granted it was his first day as a superhero, and he’d only recently turned twenty years old. He
hadn’t expected to be perfect on his first outing as a superhero, nor have life figured out in his first
year after adolescence.

However, he did not expect to be failing so badly, so grandly, so spectacularly, that he could’ve
won an Olympic medal for how much he sucked. The fact that he was the only technical ‘adult’ in
his new superhero partnership, yet was the one who was failing the hardest, wasn’t doing much for
his ego. Not that he had much of one of those.

He dropped to ground in a messy, yet unbroken, heap and pushed himself up with a groan. Sure, it
hadn’t hurt, not really, but being smacked in the head and sent flying by a giant akumatised rock
monster had definitely disorientated him. If only for a short period of time.

So, yeah, ok, he’d forgotten what his kwami had told him in regards to his special attack. He’d
tried to use it a second time after the first one failed. That was a rookie mistake. One he’d be
forgiven for.

The other thing? He wasn’t so sure his new partner would be so quick to let slide.

Speaking of his new partner…

The red-and-black suited heroine was mid-backflip when Chat landed back on the football field,
baton out and fully prepared to take the battle more seriously this time. He winced when she barely
dodged the rock monster’s fist, but sighed in relief when she gave as good as she got, using her yo-
yo to ensnare the akuma.

“Chat Noir!” she called out to him, and he landed by her side with a tentative smile.

“You called?” yup, that’s right Agreste. Play it light and breezy, like you didn’t totally insult her
earlier.

His partner, who hadn’t yet picked out a superhero name, fixed him with an ice-like stare that
seemed too serious for her height and age. It was formidable. Chat never wanted to be on the end of
it again. Oh god you HAVE to fix this before she outright hates you.

“Stick your baton through the yo-yo string,” she ordered, digging her heels into the grass as the
rock monster struggled to be released from her hold. “Once he falls, grab the paper in his hand.
That’s where the akuma is!”
Chat, wanting to show that he treated her seriously, complied. He wondered how, in between the
time of him smacking into the billboard and landing back beside her, she’d managed to figure out
where the akuma was. She must be smart. But then, that didn’t surprise him.

He pressed one of the buttons of his baton, relieved to discover that it was the one which made his
staff longer (finally a success), and stuck it diagonally through the rock monster’s legs where it
balanced in between the yo-yo strings. As soon as it was in place, the new superheroine pulled with
all of her strength, gritting her teeth until the yo-yo string went taut and the rock monster’s legs
pinned together. With the baton in the way, there was no wiggle room. Eventually, the monster
was going to fall.

Chat’s eyebrows rose at the biggest show of strength he’d ever seen.

The rock monster tumbled to the grass with a roar, landing with a booming thud that rattled Chat’s
bones. He turned to his partner, whose lips were upturned in a smirk of triumph.

“Woah. Awesome.”

The smirk left the superheroine’s face, however, when she noticed him watching her. She scowled.
“EARTH TO CHAT NOIR!” she snapped. “AKUMA!”

“Oh- right- yeah,” he stumbled, shook his head, and then dived for the piece of crumpled paper
that had escaped from the rock monster’s fist. Hurrying over to her, he presented it with a bow.
“The akuma, miss, for your cleansing pleasure.”

“My- my what?” his partner blinked, then snorted with derision. “My cleansing pleasure?”

Chat turned red. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, you didn’t think I was mature enough to understand those kinds of jokes, right, Monsieur ‘I’m
older and better than you’ ?” she scoffed, snatching the akuma out of hand and ripping it in half.
Together they watched as the black and purple butterfly floated up into the sky, disappearing in the
early spring breeze. “Don’t worry. I’m sure the next time you meet your partner, she’ll be
everything you were looking for. She’ll meet your high standards for suuuure . Me and my too-
young self will be out of your hair for good.”

Chat tried not to look hurt. Scratching the back of his head, he felt a sense of creeping dread
settling in. What could he possibly say to make this better? How could he explain himself? Did she
really want to quit because of him? “I promise I didn’t mean to upset you-”

His ring beeped and he stared at it, bewildered for a moment. Then he remembered what it meant.
He was running out of time. “Listen- umm- miss? I have to go but, can we talk another time?”

His partner shrugged, turning her back on him. “Just go,” she replied, walking towards the
bewildered young man who’d been akumatised. “I’ll handle the civilian.”

“But-”

“Go, unless you want to reveal your identity to everyone.”

She pointed to a place on the opposite side of the stadium, where a young girl was filming with her
camera. When she saw the superheroes looking in her direction, she waved frantically.

The ring beeped again. Chat Noir glanced over his shoulder at his partner one more time before
sighing in defeat. Picking up his baton, he leapt over to the stands and vaulted over the edge of the
stadium, out of sight.

Funny. He’d been so thrilled to become a superhero. It’d been the most exciting thing that had
happened to him in his miserable, boring life. The first time he’d ran, jumping as high as a building,
he’d felt a sense of freedom so poignant that tears had formed in his eyes. The bars he’d kept
around his heart had smashed to pieces, and the yearning he’d suppressed over the years had
flooded back into his system. He’d felt breathless. He’d felt alive .

Now the bars had reformed, and he was trapped again. Only this time, it was so much worse. It
was a prison of his own making, born of his own social ineptness and his knack for rushing into
things without thinking.

He’d made his partner want to quit, got his butt handed to him, and made a fool of himself in front
of all of Paris. Possibly even the world.
Thank god he had a mask hiding his identity, or his father would probably go full Rapunzel on him
and never let him out the house again.

All in all, he didn’t think he could’ve had a worst first day if he’d tried.

Adrien threw his bag on his desk chair with a grunt of annoyance, earning a loud “HEY!” from the
kwami inside it.

“Sorry!” he winced, “I’m still not used to carrying a live…whatever you are around.”

“Kwami- it’s quite easy to remember unless you’re an idiot,” Plagg grumbled, following Adrien to
the sofa in his room.

“Kwami. Right,” Adrien nodded, flopping onto said sofa like a dead weight and trying not to go
full-zombie. It had been a rough day.

The news was relentless. Everywhere and anywhere he’d gone, from classes to photoshoots, to
meetings with his father’s assistant, people were talking about the new superheroes and the new
villain out to terrorise the city. Inexplicably, most seemed both impressed and excited by the
superhero duo and how well they appeared to work together.

Most people hadn’t been able to get a close enough look at the pair of them, Adrien thought, else
they’d know that that was far from the truth.

For five minutes, Adrien was able to lie in blissful silence. Of course, it wasn’t to last as Plagg,
having finished the last of his cheese (of all the things this kwami ate, why did it have to be stinky
cheese?) sought to bug him instead. “So, I have a question,” he said, coming to rest beside Adrien’s
face. “Do you ever have any fun ever?”

Adrien huffed out a scornful laugh. What a tragically absurd question. “Not unless it’s scheduled.”

“Do you have, y’know, any friends? See people? I mean besides those boring photographers and
assistants you were talking to earlier?”

Adrien knew where Plagg was going, and he rolled to the side, pressing his face into the sofa
cushion with a groan. “I have a friend, she’s just,” he floundered, trying to explain Chloe’s wild
party girl phase with as few words as possible, “she’s in Ibiza at the moment. I haven’t seen her in a
few months.”

Plagg was quiet for a beat, and Adrien thought the matter would drop, but then he said, “Jeez, no
offense kiddo, but your life sounds boring as hell.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Adrien flipped over again, pouting.

It was true. His life was boring. In twenty years, he’d never made a decision without his parents
there to guide him- not through his own volition. He yearned for freedom. It ate at his insides,
made his skin itch, kept him up into the late hours of the morning. The only thing he’d been able to
decide for himself was what to study at university, and that was probably because his mother had
still been around to argue for him, before she’d disappeared.

His boring life had only gotten worse since that fateful day a year ago. One moment his mother had
brought sunshine and warmth into the house- the next she was gone and Adrien had no idea why.
No one did. Her disappearance burned a hole through Adrien’s heart that grew bigger with each
passing day, the same way his relationship with his father grew colder and more distant as time
went on. Now she’d been gone for a year, and Adrien was lost. Lost and alone.

Except… looking at the kwami sitting beside him, he realised he had the opportunity to not feel so
lost or alone. He didn’t know who chose him to be a superhero, or why, but he wasn’t about to let
it go any time soon. This was his chance- his chance to finally get away and experience freedom, to
make choices on his own! He was twenty years old for god’s sake! It was about time!

He frowned, remembering his earlier mistakes. “I made a real cat-astrophe out of today, didn’t I
Plagg? She hates me.”

Plagg scoffed, rolling his eyes. “She doesn’t hate you! She doesn’t know you enough to hate you,”
he said and was it Adrien’s imagination, or did Plagg sound like he was trying to reassure him? “I
mean sure, you said that she was a ‘special kid’, but it’s not like you meant it in a bad way!”

“I didn’t! I swear! She’s just… so small!” Adrien sat up with a burst of energy, almost knocking
Plagg off of the sofa. “I thought she was younger than sixteen- I was trying to give her a
compliment! Like of all the people in Paris, she had to be some sort of young prodigy to be chosen
above, I don’t know, like a firefighter or something. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.”

“You don’t talk to girls much, do you?” Plagg laughed.

“Shut up,” Adrien replied, flopping back down and running his hands down his face. This only
made Plagg laugh harder.

“Oho! So, you do have a bit of life in you! That’s promising at least,” he cackled.

Despite himself, Adrien grinned.

The grin didn’t last long, however, as he thought over his relationship with his new superhero
partner. Staring out the window, he wondered where she was right now, what she was feeling. Was
she still angry? Was she still hurt by his careless words?

He hadn’t meant to upset her, but upset her he had, and was determined to fix it.

He only hoped that it could be fixed.

Marinette closed the lid of the little wooden box shut, placing it on her desk and falling back onto
her chair with a whimper. “I’m sorry Tikki,” she whispered to the air, which seemed to tighten
around her. “I can’t do this.”

Gritting her teeth, she did battle with the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Despite all her
efforts, it was battle she lost, and silent tears slid down her cheeks. But she refused to cry properly,
she already felt pathetic enough. The box stared at her. Judgement poured out of it, as if Tikki’s
soul was still imploring her to reconsider, to not let her mistakes get the best of her.

But it wasn’t enough. Nothing Tikki said would be enough. Because Marinette wasn’t enough.

It already felt awful that her partner treated her so patronisingly. But forgetting the number one rule
of akuma (cleanse them before you release them) was too much for her to bear. She felt like an
imposter, like a kid playing dress up at a convention. What business did she have being a
superhero? She could hardly wake up on time in the mornings! She’d accidentally stolen about five
of her classmates’ phones! She once got lost on top of the Eiffel Tower- granted that had been
when she was 4 years old- but STILL.

She wasn’t made of the right stuff. Of that she was sure.

Wiping her eyes furiously, she slunk downstairs with a heavy heart. Everything felt wrong. Guilt
weighted her footsteps the further away she got from the box containing the miraculous earrings,
and the kwami now locked inside them.

Tikki had stayed up most of the night, talking Marinette through everything she thought she needed
to know, helping her understand the weight of her responsibilities and the reasons why she was
chosen. By the time the sun dawned over the horizon, Marinette’s confidence had risen along with
it.

Until she’d heard the news- the news of her utter failure. Now hundreds of akuma were spreading
around the city. A plague of bad magic, turning people into statue-like versions of Ivan’s akuma
form. People were afraid, people were confused. They were looking to her and Chat Noir for
answers. Why? She was the one who screwed up by not cleansing the akuma! And she didn’t even
have a superhero name yet.

Her new-born confidence had plummeted right through the floor, burning to a crisp in the deepest
pits of hell where it belonged.

She approached the kitchen counter, grabbing some snacks to soothe her troubled soul. Her
mother, who was reading a book at the table, frowned at her.

“Twelve macarons, pumpkin?” she asked, worry lacing her tone. “What’s going on? Are you upset
over what’s happening in the city?”

“Mmm,” Marinette nodded, pulling the snacks closer.

Sabine’s frown deepened. “Are you ok honey, you don’t look very well. In fact, you look pale.”

Sometimes it takes someone pointing it out, to make you realise just how sick you feel. Such as it
was with Marinette. As soon as her mother said she didn’t look well, a wave a nausea hit her and
she grew faint. Suddenly, she didn’t just look pale, she felt pale. “I- I don’t think I am ok,” she
stammered, clutching the kitchen counter. Boy was that an understatement.

Sabine reached up and placed the back of her hand against Marinette’s forehead. “Hmm… you’re a
little warm. Do you feel like going to school today? Any big tests happening you can’t miss?”

Marinette shook her head for both questions. She didn’t feel like going to school, she felt like
huddling under her bed covers like the huge coward she was. Forever. It was possible to live in
bed, right? Didn’t the grandparents from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory do that? Everything
turned out okie-dokie for them, so why couldn’t she do it?

To her immense relief, Sabine took pity on her and Marinette was able to spend the day doing
exactly that- hiding away from the world.

For about half a day.

It turned out being a coward had its downsides.

For one thing, it was super boring. Marinette managed an hour or so of mope-napping before she
couldn’t handle it anymore. She had to get up and do something. A part of her regretted not going
to school. At school she had Alya and Nino to distract her, as well as her classes. That being said,
Alya would probably want to talk about nothing but the superheroes (based on the endless stream
of texts she’d gotten yesterday).

Home was comfortable, but it was also quiet. And with the quiet came the endless array of
thoughts, self-admonishments and crippling sense of failure that had her near tears numerous times.
This was intolerable. She needed to do something, anything, to distract her.

She didn’t have enough energy to commit to any fashion-related projects no matter how much she
loved them, and by lunchtime she’d already exhausted social media scrolling, so some good old
fashioned daytime TV would have to do.

What she found, however, wasn’t a trashy reality show or a repeat of a twelve-year-old sitcom.

Instead, as soon as she turned on the TV, she was flooded by image after image of the stone
statues. She groaned, reaching for the remote. Really, all she wanted was one day, one day , to
avoid it all. The statues weren’t her responsibility anymore, and she needed to find someone better
for the job.

Alya would be an amazing superhero. Marinette could totally see that. Luckily, Alya had been
sneakily texting her throughout the day, and was planning to come by after school to check up on
her and give her any homework she’d missed. Whilst she was over, Marinette could slip the
miraculous box into Alya’s bag. Alya would be the hero Marinette knew she could be, and she
herself would go back to being an ordinary teenager just trying to get by. That would be the end of
her superhero journey.

So why did the decision make her feel so hollow?

“We’re live now, at the Arc de Triomphe, where some of the dozens of rock statues which appeared
yesterday, have suddenly begun to move.”

The news reporter gestured, and Marinette’s ears were flooded with the sounds of screams, of
metal crunching and roars similar to Ivan’s when he was akumatised.

She dropped the remote, horror-stricken.

People all around the Arc were fleeing for their lives as several of the stone giants began to wreck
the immediate area, picking up cars and throwing them as if they were toys, stomping so hard they
left large potholes, looking terrifying in their enormity. The news reporter was saying something to
an anchor, who was safe in the studio, but Marinette didn’t hear a word.

It was chaos. Total, complete chaos. The worst thing, though, was knowing it was all her fault.

Finally, after a whole day of holding it in, Marinette tucked her knees into her chest, and sobbed.
She wanted to change the channel, turn it off and pretend it wasn’t real, that it was just a TV
program, but she knew she’d already ran away from her problems.

“So far there has been no sign of the red-clad superheroine from yesterday, but luckily our
correspondent Jacques was able to run into the so-called Chat Noir as he appeared earlier at a
different scene, to help officers caught in the midst of a rock monster’s attack. Let’s watch”

Marinette watched as the clip began to play. She recognised her classmate Sabrina’s father at the
front of a crowd of civilians. He and the other police officers were firing guns at a rock monster,
but the bullets had no effect.

The rock monster threw a street sign in his direction and he was struck in the side, falling to the
floor.

She sat on the edge of the sofa, holding her breath and praying Sabrina’s father was all right. It was
perhaps the longest three seconds of her life.
That’s when Chat Noir appeared, and Marinette’s gut twisted in guilt. It was wrong, she thought.
She didn’t like him. She didn’t want anything to do with him, or being a superhero…

But he was there and she wasn’t. To her, that spoke volumes.

Her nails bit into her palms. She should’ve been there.

No! She argued with herself. No, I shouldn’t have been there. I wouldn’t have been able to work
well with a guy who thinks I’m just a dumb kid. I would’ve made another mistake. It wouldn’t have
ended well…

Chat was stalling for time, fighting the rock monster, which gave the police enough time to
evacuate all the civilians from the area. Marinette had to admit, no matter how rude he was, he was
good at this. It seemed like he’d learned from yesterday’s mistakes.

“Chat Noir!” The correspondent waved him over after the rock monster fell on its back, unable to
get back up again. Interesting…Marinette thought. A weakness that could be exploited. “What do
you know of these unexpected monsters and where is your partner from yesterday?”

Chat look dishevelled to say the least. His green eyes were wild from battle and his broad chest
rose and fell heavily as he regained his breath. Marinette’s heart beat quicker. She wondered what
he would say to the correspondent.

But he didn’t speak to the correspondent. Instead, Chat took the microphone from the reporter and
turned to the camera. He spoke directly to it.

To her.
“Miss, I don’t know where you are right now, if you’re caught in the mess unable to transform, if
you’re hurt, if you’re fighting someone else or if you decided you didn’t want to do this anymore.
Wherever you are, if you can hear me, please don’t give up your miraculous because of me. I’m
sorry that I upset you. I’m sorry I said such stupid things about your age. I’m an idiot. I don’t
know…I don’t know what I’m saying even now. But this city needs you, way more than it needs me.
And maybe this is selfish but I need you too. You were amazing yesterday…I can’t do this without
you. I’m sorry.”

He spoke desperately, truthfully. And long after Chat handed back the mic from the reporters and
ran off, even as the news flicked back to real-time events, Marinette sat there. Frozen. Rocked to
her core.

I’m sorry that I upset you.

This city needs you, way more than it needs me.

I can’t do this without you.

Before she knew it, she was running upstairs, back to her room.

The box was just where she left it. Pulling it into her bag and running back into the living room,
Marinette felt both a sense of adrenaline and confusion. She had no idea was she was going to do,
but she knew she had to do something .

A loud boom split the air in two. People began screaming. The ground trembled.

Marinette’s stomach dropped to the floor when she heard a loud, deep, inhuman voice. A voice
shouting. “KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM!”

The wheels in her brain turned as she tried to figure out what was happening. Ivan was akumatised
again. That’s why the other rock monsters were sentient now too.

Oh god.

Ivan was akumatised.

And he was right outside their bakery.

Marinette hurried down the stairs, out of her apartment and into her parents’ bakery, blood
pounding in her ears. Please be ok, please be ok, please be ok.

The bakery was empty. The windows were cracked, pastries were scattered on the floor where
people had dropped them. But there was nobody in sight. Where were her parents?

Without thinking, she ran outside.

There they were. Her parents. Both outside, both in the danger zone as they tried to free a person
trapped behind a car. That person, Marinette realised with downright horror, was Alya. Alya,
who’d come to check up on her.

She was about to call out to them, when things got much, much worse.

A loud thud shook the ground beneath her feet and Marinette stumbled, tripping forwards on to her
knees. She scrambled back to standing but wasn’t quick enough.

A hand was reaching for her, a big, rock-like hand. Ivan.

“LOOK OUT!”

A body collided with hers, sending her sprawling to floor. She hit the pavement awkwardly and her
bag went flying off her shoulder.

The bag with her miraculous in it.

The bag with Tikki in it.

Pain shot through Marinette’s side as the air was knocked clean out of her. She watched, helpless,
as her bag skidded out of reach, under piles of broken cars and debris that the rock monsters had
thrown in their anger.

She sat up with a groan. A trickle of blood fell down her forehead and she winced. Wondering who
saved her from Ivan’s wrath, she searched for her mystery rescuer.

It was Chat.

Chat Noir had saved her, had pushed her out of harm's way. Now he was captured, taken by Ivan in
her stead to be carried off. Most likely to Hawkmoth.
 And all Marinette could do was watch.

Helpless.

Chapter End Notes

Remember when Marinette said Chat saved her once, but he didn't see her?
Hehehehehehe....

So a little fun headcanon for you (cause it won't make it into the fic itself): Adrien
started off as Chat Noir without a bell! But one day he was complaining about his suit
to Plagg (how it doesn't actually look very cat-like) and as payback, Plagg gave him
the cat bell we all know and love. He HATED the bell at first but Ladybug absolutely
adores it, she loves flicking it and it always makes her giggle. And he utterly adores
making her laugh. So the bell stays! For the Lady's sake, because Adrien is a
sweetheart.
Follow us!
Eden's tumblr
Midnight's tumblr
 Origins Finale
Chapter Notes

dun da da DAAA!!! We're back with the origins finale! What up?! Hope you enjoy it
guys, we worked so hard on this one and are really proud of it! ^O^ Enjoy!- Midnight

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Helpless.

A whole five seconds of feeling that way was all it took. A few seconds of seeing Alya struggling,
her parent’s desperation to help her, to Chat Noir crying out as he tried to escape Ivan’s grasp, and
Marinette had made her decision.

The weight of her choice propelled her whole body forward as she dived underneath the debris, to
the miraculous. To her miraculous.
She couldn’t stand by and let innocent people suffer. Despite any bad blood between them, she
couldn’t let Chat Noir face this alone. Finally, she understood all that she could do. Finally, she
knew who she was meant to become. What she was meant to be.

I can’t do this without you.

His words rang in her ears as she stretched her arm out, grunting in pain as she propelled herself
just a bit further, just a little bit more. She was too weak in this state, the cut under her fringe
reminded her of that. She needed Tikki.

Never in her life had she wished she was a 2d character more than this moment, able to bend at
will. She inched further under the debris, praying it wouldn’t collapse on top of her. Every
centimeter she moved made the metal and plastic above her groan and crunch. Still her bag was out
of reach.

“Come on,” she grunted, partly to psyche herself up but mostly as a plea to some higher
miraculous-giving power. Her fingers scraped against the cobblestones, almost there but not quite.

The debris above her shifted again and Marinette froze, holding her breath. If it collapsed, she’d be
trapped. Or worse.

When nothing more happened, she closed her eyes, scrunched up her face, and decided to risk it all.

She threw herself to the side, her fingers finally touching the cloth of her purse. With a quick turn
of her ankles, she awkwardly pushed herself towards the gap she’d crawled through before.

Just in time for the debris to start collapsing as she feared.

With a yelp, she pushed off of the ground with all her might. She had to make it. She had to.

The debris came down.

But she’d made it through! She’d got out! Sure, she was far more worse for wear than before, and
had gained more scratches, particularly on her legs, but she’d done it! She’d gotten her bag back!

Pulling herself to her knees, Marinette wrenched open her purse. There was no time to recover from
almost being crushed to death, no time to assess any potential injuries. Her loved ones needed her.
The city needed her. Chat needed her.

And she needed Tikki.

Like the first time she opened the box, Tikki appeared in a beautiful burst of pink light. This time,
however, Marinette was prepared. This time, she was ready.

“I knew you’d change your mind!” Tikki beamed at her. Although Marinette didn’t smile back, she
did feel warmth spread through her- a kind of instinct telling her that as long as she had Tikki’s
encouragement, there was nothing she couldn’t achieve. She placed the box down on the ground
and removed the earrings.
“I can’t stand here while innocent people suffer. Not when I can do something!” she replied,
putting the earrings back on.

“And that’s why you’ll be an amazing hero, Marinette!” Tikki replied.

Marinette clenched her fists, not wanting to linger a second longer. “Well, we’ll have to see about
that. But for now, Tikki TRANSFORM ME!”

Power rushed through her, coursed through her veins. The first time she’d transformed had made
her feel weird, like a plate of jelly sliding around a plate, desperate to stay put. Now was different.
Now she welcomed it, embraced the power like an old friend. It was like breathing after a minute
of holding her breath, and she was almost giddy from it. Her world disappeared into nothing but
light, strength and magic. She accepted it all. Heart, body, and soul, she was one with the
miraculous.

She was a hero.

She was Ladybug.

Acting on instinct, she grabbed her yoyo and flicked it towards the car Alya was pinned by.
Whereas before the yoyo had disobeyed her, had seemed to have a life of its own, now it acted as
an extension of herself. It did her bidding as she made it slice straight through the car, releasing
Alya from its metallic hold.

She ran forwards, not even stopping to hear their thank-yous. Her eyes met her parents, and a
strange pang filled her heart when their wide eyes fixed on her, not recognising their own daughter.
But she pushed those feelings to the side. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. Besides, it was
better that they didn’t know.

“Get to shelter!” she yelled to them, snapping her yoyo back towards her and spinning it. “Tell
everyone you meet to do the same! It’s not safe outside!”

Only when she saw her parents, and Alya, complying did she turn herself away. Using the
momentum from the yoyo, she flicked it out to a streetlamp. Chat and Ivan were almost at the end
of the street. She had to be smart about this.

Launching herself into the air, she swung. Her feet stretched out, aiming straight for Ivan’s stone
head. “HEY!”

Ivan turned his head at the sound, just in time to see her feet slam into his face. He wobbled,
groaning in anger. Though he didn’t topple, the force of her kick disorientated him enough for her
to swing around a second time, hitting the other side of his head with everything she had.

He began to fall, and Ladybug flipped forwards, landing on his back. Leaping over Ivan’s shoulder
she reached out and grabbed Chat, propelling them both out of the way of Ivan’s body.

They landed close together, skidding to the ground in a way that would’ve surely broken all their
bones had they not had their miraculous. Ladybug shook her head. Apparently the miraculous
protected you from most injuries, but disorientation was still a factor. Her stomach swooped, but
she recovered after a few breaths. Glancing up, she saw Chat sitting up with a groan.

Their eyes met. Ladybug froze, unable to speak after everything that had happened. Words had
gotten them into this messy start. She didn’t know what to say to make it better.

Chat surprised her by speaking first. When he opened his mouth, she expected… actually she
didn’t know what she expected. Another apology? An acknowledgement that she was there?
Berating her for taking too long to show up?

Whatever she thought though, she was definitely not expecting him to ask, “Are you ok?”

Ladybug blinked, unsure of what to think. “I’m- I’m fine?” Sweet, she thought. He’s sweet .

Shoving that thought far away, she launched herself to her feet, offering her hand to Chat. He took
it, smiling shyly as she pulled him to a standing. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Heat crept up her face. Why was he being so nice to her all of a sudden? Maybe he really was
remorseful. “Well,” she stammered, turning her face away. “Couldn’t let you have all of the fun
Kitty-Cat.”

“Kitty-Cat?”

Ladybug froze again, only this time it was in sheer, raw embarrassment. Oh my god what the hell
is wrong with me?!

Chat Noir chuckled nervously. “That’s cute! I like that!”

Ladybug wanted to die. Maybe her Lucky Charm would procure a black hole she could jump into a
disappear forever. Ok maybe that would literally kill her though and she didn’t want that.

Whilst contemplating creating a disappear-hole instead of a black hole, she failed to notice Ivan
getting back to his feet. She shook her head, annoyed with herself and her partner for getting
distracted. “Ok focus time,” she said, “We’ve got to fix this mess.”

“One akuma coming right up!” Chat Noir saluted, coming to stand by her side, before leaping back
into action.
Ladybug watched and, for a moment, allowed herself the briefest of smiles before she too leapt
back into the fray.

It was time to stop this akuma and free Ivan for good.

Later that evening, the sky split in two and the heavens opened, upending a ton of rain onto the city
of Paris.

Ladybug tucked herself under the beams of the Eiffel Tower, knees to chest. Her heart was
pounding enough for her to feel it in her legs but she tried to ignore it. Instead she closed her eyes,
reaching out to feel droplets of rain as they pattered onto her gloved hand. Beside her rested her
umbrella, which she’d brought in case the rain picked up. She didn’t want to get soaked on the way
home. Tikki had assured her that she wouldn’t catch a cold in her superhero state, but still it was
better to be safe than sorry. At least until she got used to the whole superhero thing.

The whole day had gone by so quickly. Everything from their take down of Ivan to their
confrontation with the so-called “Hawkmoth” was a blur. She’d barely been able to say anything to
Chat Noir beyond calling out strategic manoeuvres.

They had a lot to talk about, which is why they’d decided to meet here. If Chat’s passionate
message to her through the news report had been any indication, they’d had some
misunderstandings to say the least. Misunderstandings that, if she was going to remain a superhero,
they really needed to clear up. If they were going to make the best out of their partnership,
communication was the key. Even if they couldn’t share everything, like their identities, they had
to make sure they were as honest as possible. Honest and clear.

Not that she was letting him off the hook for his earlier rudeness, he still owed her an explanation
for that at least. But she needed to apologise too. She could’ve handled things better.

Ladybug brought her hand back in to the safety of the Eiffel Tower. It felt weird, to be up so high
with no fear of falling.

“Hi!”

The happy chirp from behind her gave Ladybug a start and she jerked, almost slipping off her
perch but grabbing a hold of the edge just in time. Peering over her shoulder she saw Chat Noir,
arms behind his back, sheepish. “Sorry I startled you.”

He came to sit beside her, and Ladybug said nothing again. Looking down at the view below them,
she noticed that the city faded into mist and rain and clouds, reminding her of those hazy oil
paintings her mother went through a phase of collecting a few years back. Some street lights had
already flickered on in preparation for dusk. It made her acutely aware that she and Chat were the
only ones around for miles. The powers that be had closed the Tower to visitors after the earlier
akuma attack.

They were well and truly alone.

The problem was, now that they were alone, neither of them seemed to have a clue where to begin.

Ladybug bit her lip, inhaled through her nose, and decided to fortify. If she couldn’t talk to Chat
Noir now, chances were low that she’d ever be able to talk to him properly.
“I’m-” she began to apologise.

“I just wanted-” he said at the same time as her. Evidently, they’d both decided to put their best
foot forward simultaneously and ended up smacking headfirst into each other.

Well, she thought remembering the start of their first meeting, at least this time they were
smacking into each other metaphorically instead of physically.

“Oh, you first,” Chat yielded, putting his hands up and gesturing her to continue. Ladybug shook
her head.

“No, please. I want to hear what you have to say,” she said, hoping her tone was more gentle than
accusatory.

Chat’s eyes went wide with shock, his mouth parted into a little “o” shape. It was as though he’d
not been told that very often. A pink tinge dusted the tips of his ears (his real ears, his cat ears were
a little droopy and Ladybug was finding it hard not to think of it as adorable). He shuffled
awkwardly in his seat, staring at his lap.

“I just wanted to say that you were really awesome out there today, what with the way you
confronted Hawkmoth and told all of Paris that we’d protect them,” he uttered, so quiet Ladybug
almost couldn’t hear him over the rain. He glanced back up at her, smiling the tiniest, shyest smile
she’d seen from him so far. It struck a chord in her heart. A chord that had never been played
before. She gripped her chest and stared, transfixed. “And Ladybug is a cool superhero name by
the way! Excellent choice!”

This made Ladybug frown, confused. “Are you... patronising me again?” she replied, warily tilting
head.

The smile was wiped from his face in an instant. He sat up, ram-rod straight, and began waving his
arms like they were made of spaghetti. Ladybug didn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned.
“No, no, no! I’m not! I swear! And I wasn’t patronising you before either. I mean- I know it
sounded like I was. But I really didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that I thought you were some
kind of prodigy, to have been chosen to wield a miraculous as a teenager. Well, I’m only twenty so
it’s not like I can talk much about being an adult. I’m still treated like a kid. Probably more than
you are. Anyway”- he finally took a breath here, pausing to run his hand backwards over his hair
and cat ears, then down his face- “the point is I wasn’t trying to offend you. But I did. And I’m
really, truly sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m not good with stuff like this.”

Ladybug sat back, her mind reeling. His outburst was a lot to process. “Not good with what?”

Chat pouted, putting a hand at the back of his neck. “People. Talking. Socialising in general. I’m
not really good at it. It sounds dumb I know, but I never went to school… or really had any friends.
Except one but we don’t talk much these days. So, all of this is sort of new to me.”

He shrugged, offering another smile that was significantly more vulnerable than the one he’d worn
before. For the first time, Ladybug wondered what he’d look like without a mask.
Tentatively, she reached out with both hands and placed them into his own. Ladybug gasped at the
contact, even though she initiated it. Her fingers tingled and she didn’t have a clue as to why. Chat
stared at the contact, his expression unreadable. He only looked up when she began to speak. “I
need to apologise too. I overreacted because I was already doubting myself and my abilities, so I
think what you said touched a nerve. But it wasn’t fair of me to be so snappy and judgemental. It
was immature. I’m sixteen and I was acting like I’m six for crying out loud. I’m sorry.”

Chat nodded at her, and Ladybug’s shoulders relaxed at his acceptance of her apology. They
continued to hold hands, and she found herself not wanting to stop.

“Well I think it’s safe to say that we got off on the wrong paw,” Chat winked.

Ladybug snorted, trying not to laugh. “Oh, so you’re a joker now?”

Growing bolder at her reaction, he leaned closer to her, unaware of what the closeness was doing to
her heart. Seriously though, why was her whole body going haywire? Sure, he was good looking
but she wasn’t that shallow. In fact, good looking or not, she’d been prepared to hate his guts
before. They were still holding hands.

Oblivious to her inner turmoil, he amended his earlier pun, “The wrong claw?”
Ladybug giggled at that, letting go of his hand to push his face away, her own growing hot. “Stop.
Oh my god.”

“The wrong toe beans!” he cried, tapping his palm with his fist.

Ladybug couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore. She wrapped her arms around her middle,
hoping it would calm the butterflies. How had she been so wrong about him? He wasn’t a jerk, he
was a hopeless dork!

But she kind of liked that.

“Ladybugs don’t have toe beans!” she gasped for air once her giggle fit subsided. The proud beam
of Chat’s face (was he seriously that happy to have made her laugh? Maybe he really wasn’t used
to having friends) only made him more endearing to her. “But I’d say our start was pretty rocky for
sure.”

“Ooooh good one Little Lady!” he praised, sparkles in his catlike eyes, then added, “Do you mind
if I call you that? You can keep calling me Kitty-Cat!”

Ladybug sat back, resting her weight on her hands. She mulled it over. “Little Lady?”
“Yeah, because Ladybugs are small and cute and so are you!” he explained, with such an air of
innocence that Ladybug couldn’t be offended even if she tried.

She felt herself grow as red as her suit, tugging at her pigtails and hiding behind them. “Jeez Kitty-
Cat, you really are socially inept huh?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“N-nothing,” she said, wanting to change the subject. “As long as you don’t mean it in a horrible
way, I think Little Lady is a nice nickname.”

They stayed that way for a while, in comfortable silence. Well, Ladybug thought, it was probably
comfortable for Chat. Her insides kept going crazy whenever she looked at him. Get it together
already, she chided herself, what’s the matter with you?

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Chat reached to the side, procuring a small white box. “I bought this for
you. Not that I’m trying to buy your friendship of anything. I just saw it on my way back home
earlier and thought it made a really nice peace offering. Plus! It’s symbolic. You’ll see when you
open it.”

He pressed the box towards her eagerly and Ladybug took it. Their fingers brushed again as she
met his eyes. They were warm, soft. They screamed at her to trust him and honestly? She wanted
to. She may have known him only for a short time, and liked him for even less time than that, but
she wanted to trust her partner.

Thunder rumbled overhead. It cracked through the haze of her confusion and suddenly Ladybug
realised exactly what the stirring feelings inside her meant. Oh .

Oh.

Oh no.

“Open it, I promise it’s not an akuma,” Chat joked.

“HA!” Ladybug barked out a laugh that had them both jumping in shock. If she hadn’t been
blushing before, she certainly was now. “Ha,” she said again, only much quieter this time.
“Akuma! Funny! Yeah!”

She opened the box, wanting to do something beyond look at him. Looking at him was rendering
her into an incoherent, babbling mess.

Once the lid was off, however, and she saw what was inside, all she could do was gasp.

Inside lay a rose. A beautiful, bright yellow rose in full bloom. The box had a thin layer of
protective glass over it that appeared as though it could be removed.

It looked like something out of a fairy tale. Ladybug could only gawk at it.
“Do you like it?” Chat asked. “It’s called a forever rose. It’s a real rose, but they do something to it
when it’s in full bloom to make it so that it looks like that forever. It’s kind of like the gremlins
though. You can’t give it water else it will spring back to life and then die. I chose this one because
the florist told me that yellow means friendship. And I wanted you to know that I’ll always have
your back, LB.”

Well, if the look he’d given her hadn’t sealed her doom, the forever rose and his meaning behind it
certainly did.

Swallowing her shock for the time being, she put all of her efforts into looking gracious, “I love y-
IT! IT! I love it! Thank you! I promise I’ll always keep it safe.” She held up a fist, ready to bump it
against his like they’d done earlier, seemingly on instinct. “He- here’s to a great future working
together!”

It was as his own fist nudged against hers, and he gave her the warm ‘trust me’ look again that she
realised.

She not only liked Chat Noir.

She liked him.

And she was totally and utterly screwed.

“So, you guys stayed there, all that time in the rain?”

Chat Noir blinked down at her. For a while, his eyes had been distant as he’d recalled the past. It
was so strange to hear about it through his ears. What sounded like the start of a wonderful
friendship, filled with hope and promise for him, had been the start of a completely different and
far more panic-inducing set of feelings for her.

Hearing the story of how they met from his perspective was strange. She’d never noticed back then
how nervous he was. He’d seemed so sure of himself, if shy and dorky. From the way he told it
though, he’d been terrified that she’d jab the rose in his eye and kick his tail to the curb. Literally.

Marinette cringed at the temper she used to have. Granted she still had a temper, but back then with
all the hormones? She’d been a bomb ready to go off the second she witnessed someone being
cruel. Being Ladybug especially, had tempered that side of her.

She had so many questions, questions that she had to bite back because they were definitely
questions only Ladybug would be able to ask. It killed her a little bit.

“A little bit longer, but then we had to head home,” Chat replied, running his hand up and down
her back in lazy circles. His cat ears perked up in time with his lips as he recalled something. “She
gave me her umbrella, saying it was her way of apologising. I think she also said something like
‘cats hate the rain more than bugs’ but it came out all garbled which was cute.”

Marinette buried her face in the crook of his neck. The gesture would appear innocent to Chat, as
they were cuddling on the bed, but it was really to hide how red her face was. Of course, she knew
why the words had come out garbled. It’s because she’d just realised that she had a huge crush on
him and she’d been freaking the hell out!

Now she knew one-hundred percent, that he was oblivious. For the longest time she’d been
terrified he knew about her feelings and had wilfully ignored them for the sake of their partnership.
She was glad that wasn’t the case.

“I still have that umbrella you know,” he mused aloud. “I should probably give that back some
day, but I guess I kept it for sentimental reasons. It was the first gift I ever got from a friend
besides Chl- besides my only friend at the time. So, it’s kind of sentimental. I wonder if she still has
the rose?”

Marinette’s fingers tightened into a fist. Her mouth felt dry. Never in her life had she wanted to just
open up and tell him. Tell him that yes, she still had the rose, that she kept it hidden away and
looked at it whenever she was sad. That she’d looked at it all the time back when she was
recovering after getting shot, and she wasn’t allowed to be Ladybug until she recovered. That she’d
memorised every swirling petal, every shade of yellow, every thorn and reminded herself that
forever, forever, forever , he’d said their friendship was forever . He wouldn’t abandon her because
she’d been stupid and let herself get shot right as they finally put an end to the evil spreading
through Paris. It had been the only thing holding her together in those long months of recovery.
That and stopping the evil for good of course.

But the weight of it all was too huge. It forced her tongue to the bottom of her mouth and kept it
there. She remained silent, only managing a hum that might’ve sounded contemplative.
“Oh!” Chat sat upright suddenly, bringing Marinette with him. “I’ve gotta run! The anniversary
celebrations are going to start soon.”

“Y- yeah, of course,” Marinette replied, as the pair of them climbed out onto the balcony. The sky
was glowing gold as dusk drew near. “Wow, you really did talk for hours huh?”

“What can I say? I’m a storyteller!” Chat shrugged, offering a cheeky wink in her direction.

Marinette giggled half-heartedly.

“You’ll be there, tonight won’t you? At the celebrations?” Chat asked, shuffling awkwardly. He
reached out, touching the tips of her fingers with his own. “I know I probably won’t be able to see
you in the crowd but, it would mean the world to me if you are there.”

And with that, part of Marinette’s spirit seemed to curl away like dust. Shame crawled up her
throat like bile, thick and burning.

“Of- of course I’ll be there,” she said, throwing herself against his chest and wrapping him into a
tight embrace. Easier to pretend she was just being a loving, caring girlfriend than the lying coward
she was.

Why was she so afraid?

Why couldn’t she just tell him?

Before she could even begin to entertain the idea though, Chat pulled back. Lifting up her chin to
face him, he leaned close and pressed a soft, caring kiss to her lips.

She knew, deep down, that he’d accept her. That if she told him she was Ladybug he wouldn’t
reject her for that.

What was keeping her from ending the kiss, was the lying. For six months, she’d been lying to
him, kissing him, touching him, being intimate with him.

Still, she thought as she watched him disappear beyond the rooftops, it wasn’t right.

She was going to have to do it.

She was going to have to confess.

Right there, in that moment, with Chat’s love bracelet on her wrist and the vision of the forever
rose she kept locked away in her mind, she made her decision.

The next time he came to her balcony, she’d tell him the truth.

This had gone on long enough.

For now, though, she was going to let the weight of that decision settle inside her heart, and enjoy
an evening celebrating the end of Hawkmoth’s reign of terror over the city.

Later that evening, Ladybug swung over the Trocadero to thunderous applause, standing at the top
of the staircase with the current Mayor and her partner. This was the part of the job that she loved
the most, seeing all the happy citizens that were safe because her and Chat had stopped Hawkmoth.
It reminded her why she did this; reminded her that, beyond the crowds of adoring fans and the
relationship drama, she had a purpose. She was a superhero, a force for good, and she made a
difference. That, to her, meant everything.
After the speeches were done, the street party began in earnest. Chat offered a hand to her, as he
always did, and the pair of them danced the night away. But this time, he kept looking over her
shoulder, out at the crowd, and her heart panged when she realised why.

“Something on your mind, Kitty-Cat?” she asked, keeping her voice as low as possible as she
twirled under his arm.

This startled Chat and he shook his head as though someone had poured water all over it. “Oh, n-
no, nothing. Was just wondering if I could spot someone I knew, that’s all.”

That wasn’t all and Ladybug knew it. But she’d stay silent for now. “We still have to swap gifts
you know,” she reminded him.

“After this dance?” he asked, “I’m really fe-line it!”

Ladybug rolled her eyes fondly. “Sure, sure,” she replied, leaning close. The song was slower in
nature, and couples around the Trocadero were swaying gently to the romantic melody.

She didn’t want to think about the way he was holding her now, and how different it was to the
way he held her as Marinette, yet it was all she could think of. “Happy anniversary Chat Noir,” she
whispered, as both halves of herself. As Ladybug, celebrating the anniversary of their triumph and
as Marinette, thinking about the sixth month anniversary since they first got together. Since the
first lie.

“Happy anniversary Ladybug,” he smiled back, his eyes sparkling in the warm hue of the
streetlights, catching the glistening light display of the tower where their friendship had begun.

She wasn’t going to lie any longer.

Chapter End Notes

Yaaaay it's finished! Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow Eden's tumblr here: Edendaphne

Follow my tumblr here: Midnightstarlightwrites

We love people talking to us, so don't be shy! And stay tuned next time because it's
the start of The Bodyguard Arc MUHAWHAWHAWWWWW, please begin your
speculations in the comments below! - Midnight Xx

Eden: Thanks for reading, guys! In case you were wondering what Ladybug and Chat's
gifts were, Ladybug got Chat this hoodie and Chat got Ladybug this umbrella!

Keep being awesome guys! Can't wait to hear what you thought about this one!
 The Darkest Heart (Dark Cupid)
Chapter Notes

Annnnd we're back with another chapter before the Bodyguard Arc! Originally we had
the Bodyguard Arc planned to start after Origins, however I surprised Eden for her
birthday with a chapter we've both been thinking about for ages- The Dark Cupid
chapter!

This chapter isn't part of an arc, it's a standalone!

It's set in between origins and current day: Marinette is 18 and Adrien is 22 in this
chapter, so they've been hero-ing for 2 years at this point.

Enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The forever rose sat on Marinette’s trembling lap. It stared at her, judging her nerves. She couldn’t
blame it.

Taking a deep breath, she pried her eyes away from her gift and focused on her comprehensive set
of notes on how this day was going to go.

Step One: Buy Chat Noir a Valentine’s day gift. Check. She’d done that. Once upon a meeting,
Chat Noir had gotten her a yellow forever rose to symbolise that they’d forever be friends and
partners. Now she’d gotten him a red forever rose. She hoped he get the meaning but that led on to
her second step.

Step Two: Figure out what to say to Chat once she saw him later. If the piles of paper littered
around her room were anything to go by, she’d at least attempted it. She had… something.
Anyway, Marinette figured she’d ruin what she meant to say anyway. Tikki had told her to speak
from her heart. But it wasn’t her heart she was worried about, it was her stupid tongue and the way
it got tongue-tied whenever she attempted to talk to Chat about her feelings.

But this was it. She had a feeling. They’d been partners for two years already. She was in her final
year of school before going off to university. She was eighteen, grown up now, not some silly
sixteen-year-old with a crush on her slightly older partner. They were, and had always been, equals
anyway.

Two years of pining after Chat Noir was long enough. If she had to hide it any longer, she felt like
she’d explode.

Step Three? Well that was up to Chat, and truth be told it made Marinette want to throw up
whenever she thought about it.

The time on her desktop read 7:00am. Marinette yawned and rubbed at her eyes. It had been
impossible to sleep the night before and she was thankful that she was confessing with a mask on
her face. It would cover the bags under her eyes.
School was even more torturous than usual. When she arrived, she’d been assaulted by a flurry of
red confetti. Love hearts were plastered everywhere. Trying not to roll her eyes, Marinette stomped
her way to her first class of the day and collapsed in a seat next to Alya. Leaning forwards, she
flopped face-first onto the desk and let out an almighty groan.

Alya laughed. “Now that’s a mood if I ever saw one,” she said, batting some confetti out of
Marinette’s hair, which she’d put in a high ponytail in anticipation of the confetti. The ponytail had
betrayed her. Not a good omen for how the rest of her day would go. If her simple hair-style plan
had gone awry, how would confessing to the LOVE OF HER LIFE go down?!

It was a long day.

The final bell was a brief balm on the burning anxiety which riddled every inch of her insides. As
predicted she hadn’t been able to focus on anything her teachers had been saying, in any lesson.
Even the ones she really liked. Every time she tried, the teachers’ words got garbled somewhere
between Marinette’s ears and her brain, so it sounded like they were mocking her. “Look at you!
You think you can confess? You?!”

Ugh.

Suffice to say, her nerves were shot. But at least she had Alya as a companion to her misery. As the
pair of them slung their heavy bags over their shoulders, Marinette caught Alya throwing one last
longing look in the direction of the object of her affection. Her heart went out to her friend. “Don’t
you think it’s time to end that stupid agreement you two have?” She asked gently as Nino gave
them an awkward wave before hurrying out the door. Usually he stuck around and hung out with
them after school. Today was different, and Marinette couldn’t blame him for running off. Even
from the back of the classroom, she’d spotted the pining, the overwhelming sadness, in Nino’s
eyes.
She’d never understand the position her two best friends had put themselves in. They were both so
obviously in love with each other, both of them knew it too.

“Studies come first girl, you know that. Nino and I both decided that a long time ago. Feelings get
in the way,” Alya replied through gritted teeth, her fingers digging into the strap of her bag.

Marinette wanted to argue that feelings wouldn’t get in the way, that those two were crazy to
willingly keep themselves from each other. They loved each other far too much for that love to do
anything but lift them up, rather than drag them down and distract them like they were both
worried it would. She sighed, wishing that she was as lucky as Alya. If she knew that Chat loved
her back…

She shook her head, trying to rid those thought from her mind. It was an argument she’d had with
Alya and Nino far too many times and today wasn’t the day for it.

Wrapping her arm around Alya’s shoulder, the pair of them strolled out of the classroom. They
were halfway down the hallway, Marinette in the middle of tempting Alya with thoughts of a huge
but definitely-not-heart-shaped cookie when they were roughly shoved apart. Being the clumsy girl
that she was, this caused Marinette to stumble to the ground.

“HEY! WATCH IT!” Alya yelled at Kim’s retreating back, scowling. Kim didn’t turn around.
“God, what’s got his goat?” she grumbled, helping Marinette to her feet…

Only for Marinette to tumble to the ground again when someone slammed full-bodied into her.
“OW!”

Alya swore loudly. “First Kim, now you too Max? What the hell is going on?” she grabbed both
Marinette and Max’s hands and yanked them both to their feet. Marinette rubbed her shoulder with
a frown. Great. That was definitely leaving a bruise. At least later it’d be covered up by her super-
suit.

She recovered quickly, however, when she saw how distraught Max looked. His eyes were wide,
pupils shrunk in panic, his chest was rising and falling heavily. His glasses were askew. He’d never
look so unkempt. “Kim? You saw Kim? Where did he go? Did you see?”

“Hey, hey,” Marinette soothed, placing a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder. “Is everything
okay?”

Max’s chin wobbled. He looked like he was about to cry. “No. No everything isn’t ok. I think- I
think Kim was going to- to ask me to be his Valentine. But he saw me and Toby from the other
class- and he thinks- oh my god.”
It was then that Marinette noticed a Valentine’s card in Max’s hand, only it had been ripped in half.
She spotted Kim’s untidy scrawl poking out from Max’s ring finger. She assumed Kim had the
other half, or had thrown it away, and that Max was right. The card was for Max, from Kim, and
he’d intended to confess.

Alya and Marinette shared a look, both of them unsure how to handle this. They’d never seen Max
so frantic. Usually he was so put together. Sure he could be a bit tetchy or nervous at times, but
never like this. As it stood, he was giving Marinette a run for her money, and that was really saying
something.

“So…” Alya tried. “Are you and Toby-”

Max didn’t let her finish. Burying his head in his hands he cried, “No! No, we’re not! Not ever! He
confessed to me and then kissed me without even asking if it was ok! But Kim saw and ran off
before I could explain and now I’ve really messed things up.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Marinette said, squeezing Max’s shoulder a little tighter.

“Marinette’s right, Max,” Alya nodded. “You two have been crazy over each other for ages now.
You know what Kim is like. Just let him cool down and then talk to him. Tell him what happened.
He’ll get it. Just make sure he doesn’t see Toby for a while.”

Max still looked like he wanted to cry.

“Hey, why don’t you come back to my house with us? There’s a big cookie with your name on it
just waiting for you!” Marinette smiled. Max looked up at her, before staring down at his feet. He
nodded.

Yikes, Marinette thought as the three of them made their way to the bakery. So much drama today.
She hoped that maybe the amount of drama happening in the first part of the day, meant that the
last part of the day (and her confession) would be relatively drama free.

Hah. A girl could dream.

Chat Noir frowned, scanning the city block with narrowed eyes.

Without fail, the past two years had seen Valentine’s-related akuma show up. This day really did
bring out the worst in people and Hawkmoth, whoever he was, loved taking advantage of that.

Seriously, that guy needed to get laid or something. If anything, it would get him to stop picking on
people.

It was late afternoon, and he had a report due tomorrow. Evil professor scheduling an essay due
date they day after Valentine’s- Chat would be annoyed if he had anyone special to share the day
with. Sure, he was going to meet up with Ladybug later anyway. Even so, now he was here,
hunting another akuma instead of studying. This one was some lovelorn guy with an evil cupid
theme, shooting black arrows into the citizens of Paris and turning everyone- as Plagg delicately
put it- “into assholes.”

He couldn’t do much until Ladybug got here, and he’d narrowly missed those black arrows a few
times. But he could distract the akuma victim from inflicting damage on anyone else.

“Hey! Guess what else I love!” Chat cried, popping out from behind a car when he spotted the
Dark Cupid. “I love croissants! They’re the best! They fill my heart with such warmth and joy!” he
smirked, elongating his words as he swooned over croissants like a lovesick fool. It seemed to
annoy Dark Cupid whenever he talked about what he loved.

An angry growl from the possessed younger man meant he was successful in his distraction and he
leapt away from the car, deftly dodging a string of black arrows. He threw his head back and
laughed, which only enraged Dark Cupid further.

Dark Cupid gave chase, but Chat was too quick even with the absence of the wings which Dark
Cupid had strapped to his back, that should have given the villain the upper hand. Ha-ha.

He ran around the corner, losing sight of Dark Cupid enough to hide. Hopefully, Chat thought, he’d
be able to ambush Dark Cupid when the latter came looking for him, and wrestle the akuma away.
Then it would be a waiting game until Ladybug showed up to cleanse it. He was pretty sure the
akuma was whatever torn up piece of paper was held in Dark Cupid’s hand.

“There you are!”

Chat turned around, and his face burst into a smile to see Ladybug standing before him. Great!
Now his plan would be even easier! “Glad to see you Little Lady, so about the a-”
She pressed a finger to Chat’s lips, and his eyes widened. For some strange reason, his heart
skipped a few beats, but he shook it off when he noticed her finger was trembling. She looked so
nervous. Was she ok? Was she ill?

“Ok, before you say anything please let me talk okay?” Ladybug said. Tucked under her arm was a
small, white box. He wondered if it had any of the cookies she sometimes brought him in it. But no
that didn’t seem right. She wouldn’t be like this over cookies. What was going on?

He nodded and Ladybug let out a sigh of relief. She released his lips from her finger’s hold and
Chat felt weird. He kind of missed the feeling of it being there. But had no idea why.

“Good. Ok. That’s- that’s good,” Ladybug coughed, clearing her throat. She brought the box
forward, holding it in both hands as she stared at it. Chat stared too. “So, umm… we’ve been
together a long time now. I mean! Not together- together. You know, like, together. Partners!
We’ve been partners for a long time and I wanted to give this to you and tell you”- she began lifting
the lid of the box, Chat felt his whole body tense in anticipation- “that I- I- CHAT LOOK OUT!”
Ladybug’s expression turned from one of sincerity and nervousness, to one of horror. The next
thing Chat knew, he was flung off his feet as Ladybug crashed into him, sending him skidding to
the floor. Ladybug landed on top of him.

Just in time to see it disappear, Chat caught sight of a single, black, heart-shaped arrow land on
Ladybug’s shoulder.

His heart dropped.

Dark Cupid laughed and flew away.

“Ladybug?” he whispered, reaching up to her. His hand hovered over her shoulder, his breath
caught in his throat. They’d never been so close before. She was so warm…

And she’d just taken an arrow for him. She was silent, unmoving. Chat prayed to every deity he
could think of that her miraculous hadn’t been corrupted. He knew his could, it had been several
times. But if her heart had turned dark…

No. It couldn’t have happened. It couldn’t have. He placed his hands on her shoulders, softly
pushing them back off of him, so that he could check if she was ok. “Little Lady?”

Ladybug’s shoulders began to shake. At first, Chat was worried she was crying, that she’d been
hurt by the fall. But that made no sense. They’d taken far worse hits and she was strong, stronger
than him even. Only when a low, cold, cruel sound escaped her lips did Chat realise. She was
laughing.

“I’m not your Little Lady.”

Chat’s eyes widened as Ladybug got up, straddling his waist as her face came into full view. Her
lips were twisted into an icy grin which froze him into place. Her eyes, so often reminding him of
an ocean in midsummer, now looked glacial. Her lips were as dark as the pain now wrenching
Chat’s gut, as the deadly reality of their predicament sunk in.

Ladybug’s miraculous was corrupted. She was under Dark Cupid’s spell.

“Ladybug,” his voice was faint, terrified, as he tried to reason with her. He smiled, hoping it would
reach something inside her. He knew she was still in there. He knew it. “Ladybug…snap out of it.”

His words fell on deaf ears, for Ladybug rolled her eyes. A pointed fingernail scratched the bottom
of his chin, digging in just enough to hurt, and Chat swallowed. Despair lingered in the corners of
his mind. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.
The gloved fingernail dug into the soft part of his chin harder, forcing him to look up. Ladybug
sighed. “Little Lady, Little Lady, Little Lady. Do you know how sick I am of being called that?
How sick I am of you calling me that? I might be Ladybug, but it’s you that’s the annoying little
insect, always getting yourself into trouble, always having to pick up your slack.” The smile
dropped from her face and she glared at him so hard that Chat’s heart cracked. He tried not to
listen. He tried not to let her words in. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t Ladybug. This was the curse.

Wasn’t it?

His limbs were stone-like, lifeless and unable to move an inch. All he could do was watch in horror
as Ladybug lowered herself closer to him, so that they were almost nose-to-nose. Her glare
deepened, and she looked at Chat like he was the most disgusting thing she’d ever seen.
“Ladybug,” he whispered, still hoping, still wishing. “Please…”

“Shut up,” she snapped. “God! You’re so annoying! How I put up with being your partner for so
long is beyond me. Well”- she sat up, reaching behind her for her yo-yo- “Time to fix that for
good!”

Chat ducked his head out of the way just in time. The yo-yo slammed into the ground where his
head had been moments before, leaving a large dent in the ground below. A second attack came
and he shifted, this time fighting against his very nature as he pushed Ladybug off of him with all
the force he could muster. She fell backwards, allowing him time to escape. He leapt back to his
feet, grabbing his baton and bringing it in front of him. “I don’t want to fight you. We’re friends!”
“Blah blah blah,” Ladybug replied, swinging her yo-yo in what was surely preparation for another
attack. Her black lips glinted in the late afternoon sun. He needed to leave. Fast. He need to de-
transform. He needed Plagg’s help, and to not fixate on the fact that Ladybug had just tried to kill
him. It’s part of the curse. You’ve done similar things to her. Don’t let it affect you, he tried to
reason with himself. “Friends? You really think I could be friends with someone as arrogant and
patronising as you? I was LYING all those years ago. That friendship rose you gave me? I threw it
away. It meant nothing to me. You mean nothing to me.”

Chat couldn’t stand hearing anymore. He called out a cataclysm, striking a nearby wall so that it
collapsed in a sea of black dust and rubble.

By the time the dust cleared, and Ladybug looked up, he was long gone.

Ladybug placed her yo-yo back onto her side. How troublesome. Now she was going to hunt him
down like the rotten stray he was.

She walked towards the battered white box, which had been tossed to one side during the fray and
opened the lid to reveal the red forever rose. A short laugh escaped her lips. What had she been
thinking, giving a rose to Chat?

The only rose she wanted to give him was a black one. Preferably at his funeral. God, she hated
him. She hated him so, so much.

In a few short, violent bursts, Ladybug tore up the forever rose, leaving the shredded petals to
dance along the breeze, falling into the gutter. It was where they belonged.

Then she went hunting.

Chat Noir barged into a shop. It looked like some kind of bakery. He didn’t have time to check
however. The delightful scents of pastries wafting in the air were wasted on him. Scanning the
empty room, he leapt behind the counter, his back pressed against the cool stone as he de-
transformed. “Plagg!” he cried, barely giving his kwami a chance to breathe. “It’s Ladybug!
She’s-”

“I know, kid, I know, jeez don’t get your underwear in a twist,” Plagg grumbled, rubbing his face.
“I’ll admit it’s a tricky situation.”

“Tricky situation?!” Adrien spluttered. “She hates me, she wants to kill me! How are we going to
cleanse the akuma like this?!”

“If you don’t calm down, I’m going to hide camembert in your closet and let it rot. Then we’ll both
be miserable,” Plagg warned in a tone the told Adrien he better be quiet. He snapped his mouth
shut. Plagg shot him a withering look before continuing, rubbing his paw against his head in
thought. “It’s difficult, and annoying, when Ladybug’s miraculous gets corrupted. But it happens,
and we can break the corruption before destroying the akuma. We just have to figure out a way to
snap her out of her hissy fit.”

“I think it’s a bit more than a hissy fit, Plagg,” Adrien replied. “You have hissy fits, Ladybug she-
she really hates me right now.”

You mean nothing to me.

I was LYING all those years ago.

I’m not your Little Lady.

Adrien’s hands curled into fists. Everything felt wrong. Ladybug hating him, looking at him with
such contempt. It wasn’t right. She was the light to combat everything dark in the world. She was
hope and beauty and light and lo-

“Of course she doesn’t hate you,” Plagg sighed, “it’s the curse talking. So don’t take it to heart. Do
you see her taking it to heart all the times you took a metaphorical arrow for her and ended up
fighting her as a result? No. So suck it up. Your partner needs you.”
They stared at each other for a while and Adrien sighed, slumping lower onto the ground. It was a
weird day. He wasn’t used to Plagg being so serious. “Ok,” he frowned. “But how? It’s not like I
can kiss and make it better!”

Plagg bobbing in mid-air. His eyes glinted.

Adrien’s jaw dropped. “Oh no. No, no, no. NO.”

“Umm, how about yes?” Plagg cackled. “It totally makes sense! What beats hate? Love! You have
to kiss her! Like in all those gross old stories. True love’s kiss.” He was laughing fully now, and
Adrien’s face felt as though it was bursting into flames. “You have to kiss Ladybug!”

“But it’s not- we’re not- we don’t love each other like that,” Adrien whined, burying his head into
his knees.

“Adrien,” Plagg said, his tone so grave that Adrien actually looked up to see what had caused his
sudden shift in tone. Plagg’s stare went straight through him. “No offense, but you’re the dumbest
little shit I’ve ever met.”

“Screw you, Plagg!” Adrien cried, crossing his arms in a sulk. “I know I’m right, besides I’m not
going to kiss her without her consent.”

“You know I’m pretty sure you didn’t consent to her straddling your waist like that,” Plagg shot
back, causing Adrien to blush even harder. Great. Now he had that image in his mind.

This was crazy! He shook his head, like his brain was an etch-a-sketch. He didn’t see Ladybug in
that way. She was just a friend. He was older than her anyways. She was on the cusp of starting
university and he was already second year, well into his studies. She was about to dive into a
brand-new life of fun and freedom and who was he to get in the way of that? She deserved better.

“And that makes it right?” Adrien argued. “No. No way. I won’t do it. I’d never be able to face her
again.”

“So fine, don’t, and let her remain the way she is as the whole of Paris burns around you. That’s
great hero-ing!” Plagg shrugged then sighed once more. “Look, kid, I’m not saying this is the best
situation, and it’s kind of wonky in terms of morality I’ll agree. But it’s the best solution I can
think of right now. It’s what my instincts tell me you should do. Just don’t make it weird, and
apologise for it afterwards. I’m sure she’ll understand. It’s part of the akuma’s curse. It doesn’t
mean anything.”

Adrien dragged a hand down his face. This was rapidly turning into the worst Valentine's day he’d
ever had. “Can I not just settle for a friendly handshake?”

Plagg snorted. “You can try, if she doesn’t chop your hand off first.”

A short time later, Chat Noir ran through the now even more chaotic streets of Paris. Leaping over
rooftops in search of Ladybug. He tried to make himself easy to spot.

It didn’t take long for Ladybug to find him, which was a relief. Over and over, he thought of how
terrible this plan was, how wrong it felt. If he was going to kiss Ladybug, it should have been when
they were both fully conscious enough to both agree to it and enjoy it.
Wait, what?

“Finally!” Ladybug groaned. “You know you don’t make anything easy. In fact, you make life so
much harder for me. You always have.”

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it, he thought. “I just want to talk.” Maybe he could still reason with her.

“Yeah I’m sure you do,” she snarled, cocking out her hip and glaring at him again. “But I’m done
with that. Done with you.”

She leapt towards him, and Chat dodged her fist. So, no weapons huh? Well it made things slightly
easier.

He made no moves to hurt her, he couldn’t bring himself to no matter how hard she kicked him.
Every move he me made was one of defence. But Ladybug was relentless, backing him up more
and more until his back was flat against a chimney. He was stuck. But still he couldn’t. He
wouldn’t-

Ladybug gripped his neck tight, squeezing his throat and lifting him off the ground.

The pressure was unlike anything he’d ever felt. Ladybug lifted him higher, her hold on him
tightened, and his head began to swim.

It was strange, how dying brought up things he’d denied for who knows how long.

“Ladybug, don’t, please,” he choked. “I love-”

“SHUT. UP!” her voice wavered slightly as Chat’s vision blurred. His throat burned. But his heart
lifted. He felt a crack in the curses hold. It was almost as if, even under the curse’s control, she
couldn’t stand to do this to him.

He knew it. He knew she was still in there.

“Just stop talking ok? I hate you,” her limbs began to shake as Chat wheezed and gasped for air. “I
hate you!”

Sensing her sudden weakness, Chat found the strength to bring one arm up, slamming it against the
arm which Ladybug was using to choke him. Her hold on him broke and he felt warm, blessed air
fill his lungs once again. His fingers dug into the brick wall as he supported himself, as his head
cleared again.

But Ladybug wasn’t done. She grabbed his collar, slammed him back into the chimney. “I hate
you!”

It was then he noticed the tears pouring down her face, and his heart leapt even as it broke at the
sight of her in pain. She was so strong, she was trying to break free, which is more than he’d ever
done when he’d been in her situation.

But she needed help. She couldn’t do it all on her own.

He cupped her face, brushing the tears off of her face, and smiled at her. “I know you do,” he
whispered.

Then he leaned down, closed the small gap between the two of them, and kissed her.
Ladybug was aware of a few things.

The first was that she had no idea where she was.

The second, she had no idea how she got there.

The third was that Chat was screaming at her.

“I’M SO SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!”

“Huh?”

She looked down. Chat was by her feet, on his knees like a monk admitting he’d committed a grave
sin. His arms were wrapped around her legs and his face was lowered, so she could only see a mop
of blonde and two black kitty ears. To say he seemed distraught was a gross understatement.

What the hell had happened? The last thing she remembered, she’d been nervously trying to
confess to Chat. Then she’d seen Kim in his akumatised form, ready to attack an unsuspecting
Chat. She’d pushed him out of the way and then…nothing. She couldn’t remember anything after
that.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh god no.

“What did I do?” she gasped, the realisation that she’d been the one possessed by an akuma for a
change slowly dawning on her, shaking her to her core.

“What did you do?!” Chat cried, almost sobbing. “What did I DO?!”

“I don’t know, what did you do?” Ladybug asked, not enjoying the great big chasm where her
memories of the past couple of hours should be.

“I’ll tell you what I didn’t do! I didn’t do the honourable thing is what I did!”

“Wait. So, you did do the honourable thing or you didn’t?”

“I didn’t!”

“You didn’t?”

“I’m a DESPICABLE HUMAN BEING!”

“Chat you’re not making any sense-”

“Don’t even look at me I’m DESPICABLE!”

He got to his feet, and was about to turn tail and run away. Although Ladybug’s head was spinning
with the sudden onslaught of borderline gibberish coming from her hysterical partner, she still had
the sense to grip his wrist and stop him from leaving. Her lips tingled. Huh. Weird. She pressed
them together.

Chat’s eyes flicked down to her lips and she blushed, looking away. A whine escaped his throat
and his cat ears flattened against his head, but he remained where he was. “Ladybug. I did
something bad, and judging from the way I usually feel after I’m possessed, you probably don’t
remember it do you?”

Ladybug shook her head, suddenly worried. A million thoughts assaulted her at once, making her
panic. What had he done that was so bad that it seemed as if not even her miraculous cure could fix
it? “Whatever you did, I’m sure you had the right intentions.”

“I did, I swear!” he nodded, shuffling awkwardly. Why did things feel so…strange all of a sudden?
“So, you got possessed and you hated me. Like super hated me, and my kwami told me that the
way to reverse it was to- to-”
He mumbled the end of the sentence, so quietly that Ladybug had to lean in closer. “Chat what was
that?”

“KISS!” Chat bellowed, hysterical once more. “KISS! I HAD TO KISS YOU! I KISSED YOU
WITHOUT YOUR PERMISSION! I DON’T DESERVE YOUR FORGIVENESS! I’M SO
SORRY!”

Chat continued to ramble on about how sorry he was, but Ladybug heard none of it. Everything
around her turned to white noise. Her lips tingled more than ever. She reached up, touching them.
Kissed?

Chat had kissed her? She’d hated him? And he’d broken through her hate by…kissing her.

They’d kissed.

He’d kissed her.

“What the ever-loving HELL?!” she yelled. Chat winced at her reaction and she scrambled to
explain herself. Oh my god, she was going to die. The guy she loved kissed her and she’d been
possessed! Her dreams came true and she missed them?! What kind of shitty fate was that! Wasn’t
Ladybug supposed to be lucky?! DAMN IT! “I mean! I’m not mad at you! It- it worked didn’t it?
And I- I would’ve done the same.” She coughed, feeling as if she was about five seconds away
from spontaneously combusting.

“Wait, you’re not mad?” Chat gawked, hardly daring to believe it.

Ladybug shook her head. “You did what you had to do, Kitty-Cat. I appreciate you doing it, even
though it made you uncomfortable and was definitely a grey area. But I’m giving you my consent
to it after-the-fact. I’m not mad. I promise.” That was a lie. She was livid. At her rotten luck
though, not at Chat.

Still, if kissing her had caused him this much distress, in a way she was glad she missed it? Ugh,
this was way too complicated. She wondered where her forever rose had gone…

Chat stared at her, tears in his eyes, as he seemed to deflate in relief. He opened his arms, looking
up through his eyelashes and damn it that wasn’t fair. “Is it bad if I ask if I can I have a hug?” he
asked, sounding so wounded that she couldn’t help but step into his embrace.

“Silly kitty, you never have to ask for a hug,” she whispered, closing her eyes and letting herself
pretend, just once. Her heart was a mess.

But the hug was just what they both needed. They stayed that way for a while, until Chat truly
understood that she wasn’t angry with him.

“We should probably go get that akuma, he has a complicated situation to fix too. I know, he’s a
friend of mine,” she mumbled.

“Yeah,” Chat replied, pulling her closer, and burying his head into the crook of her neck. Alarm
bells went off in Ladybug’s brain. This didn’t mean the same thing to him. It didn’t.

Still. Neither of them moved.

Ladybug pulled back a little, tilting her head up to look at him. He smiled weakly at her, and she
returned the gesture. He sighed in relief. “I like that smile better,” he mumbled. “Than the one you
gave me when you were under the curse and hated me I mean.”
 “Oh,” Ladybug said, then, “I didn’t say anything really horrible, did I? If I did, I’m sorry, you
know I didn’t mean it.”

Chat was silent for a little bit, and Ladybug couldn’t help but notice that his smile no longer met
his eyes.

“No,” Chat said. “You didn’t say anything.”

Later that evening, when the akuma had been cleansed and Max and Kim had sorted out their
emotional issues, Marinette stood on her balcony, the chilly Valentine’s air whipped through her
loose hair. The high ponytail had been banished from her fashion choices. It was a bad omen.

She stared out at the city lights until they blurred into one silvery-gold blob. A blob which
remained unseen by her, because she wasn’t really focused on it. She stared straight through the
lights, lost in thought.

Maybe it was about time she put her feelings for Chat to one side. For good. Everything felt so…
complicated. And strange. She should just be happy to have such an amazing person in her life,
right? Things were fine the way they were, right? Anyway, judging by how horribly he reacted to
kissing her, he hadn’t enjoyed the idea. Did she really want to be with someone who hated the idea
of kissing her that much?

She wiped her eyes. Was it too much to hope that one day, Chat Noir would show up and confess
his love to her and they could live happily ever after?

As if that could happen. He didn’t even know Marinette. Aside from the time he’d pushed her out
of harm's way back when they’d first become superheroes, he’d never even come into contact with
that side of her. So the chance of him showing up to romantically sweep her off her feet were slim
to none.

No. She should just give up. It was too much, too difficult, too painful to go on any further.

Yet… she couldn’t let it go. She couldn’t forget the way her lips tingled, and brought her fingers up
to touch them…

Unaware that somewhere, on the other side of the city, a blonde supermodel was staring out of his
own window, thinking and doing the exact same thing.

Chapter End Notes

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!!!!

So as mentioned in this chapter, Alya and Nino have had a pact going that- despite
their feelings- neither of them were going to date until they'd gotten a place at
university/passed all their school exams etc. Both feared that getting into an intense
relationship would mess with them, plus they both secretly feared taking that "leap"-
typical "they're my best friend what if we break up and I lose them?!" stuff.

Anyways, their Valentines Day turned out a little...different than they were expecting
hehehehehe :3

Both Eden and I are ardent DJWifi shippers she couldn't resist doodling a little
something. Then of course I had to write a little something and boom- we have
ourselves a bonus DJwifi chapter coming on Friday!!!! Yes, this Friday!!! It's totally
skipable if you just want the main WDDM story, but we'll be updating it here! So look
forward to it! :D

Thank you all once again for your support! - Midnight

Follow Eden on Tumblr!

Follow Midnight on Tumblr!
 Bonus Dark Cupid Chapter: How Alya and Nino Broke Their Pact
Chapter Notes

As promised! Here's the Djwifi bonus chapter! This is set the morning after the
previous chapter :D

Disclaimer: This chapter has mentions of mature content- in particular mentions (but
not depictions) of sex and alcohol use. The age of consent in France is 15, and the legal
drinking age is 16 for wine and beer and 18 for spirits and liquor. Alya and Nino are
both 18 in this chapter!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Alya came to consciousness slowly, in a fog of darkness, confusion and grogginess. Her head
ached, the familiar throbbing of a hangover, but it wasn’t too bad. She hadn’t gotten that drunk the
night before, had she?

The night before… the singles day party. Instead of celebrating Valentine's Day, one of the local
bars was doing a singles celebration instead. On the promise of getting away from the stupid love
hearts and couples doing couple-y things, she and a bunch of other friends had gone there. Max and
Kim hadn’t been there like they were originally. After everything that happened, they decided to go
back to Kim’s place and nobody had heard a word from them since, except to get a text from Kim
in the group chat that was simply a heart emoji. Despite the missing duo, everyone had had a blast
drinking the night away, singing songs, spending the little cash they made from their part-time
jobs.

Nino had been there.

Alya groaned, burying herself further into the blankets, which smelled…strange. Not bad, in fact
they smelled nice. Just different. Maybe it was her hangover making her more sensitive to smell?

She hoped, in her inebriated state, she hadn’t said something stupid to Nino at the bar. It had been
hard enough seeing him whilst she’d been sober during school hours. Stupid no-dating pact! It had
taken all she’d had not to march up to him, say “forget the pact” and give him the smooch of a
lifetime-

Wait.

The word “smooch” triggered something in her brain. Dark eyes in a dark corner of the bar, soft,
nervous laughter, kisses. More giggles. Many kisses.

Oh my god they had kissed! She’s kissed Nino. They’d gotten drunk and broken the pact!

Once the dam had burst, the memories began to spill out quicker than Alya could catch up with.
There were more, far more, than she was prepared for. Finding their way back to Nino’s place… a
flurry of clothes… it had stopped being funny at that point. And then- and then-

Alya couldn’t breathe.

A low hum reached her ears, a shift in the bed, and an arm was suddenly around her. An arm, she
knew, had to be Nino’s.

Without thinking, Alya shot upright, promptly grabbing the blankets and thrusting them up to her
chest when she confirmed that she was, in fact, naked as the day she was born. She was naked. In
Nino’s weirdly organised-messy room. She was naked- in Nino’s bed...

AND NINO WAS STILL ASLEEP.

“Nino,” she whispered, lightly tapping him. She kept her eyes on his peacefully slumbering face.
She would not let them linger lower, and she definitely would not wonder if he was naked too.
“Nino wake up.”

“Nyghlfghl,” was the articulate response she received. “Five more minutes.”

“Nino Lahiffe!” Alya said, the pitch in her voice rising to a level just under hysterical, even as she
fought to keep her volume down. What if his parents walked in? Oh god. “If you don’t wake up
this instant-”

Nino’s eyes opened blearily, he smiled at her. If she weren’t so caught up in their situation, the
sweetness of his expression would have caused her to melt. “Oh, mornin’ Alya,” he yawned and
began to close his eyes once more…

Only to snap them open wider than Alya had ever seen his eyes go. He bolted up like a shot.
“ALYA?!” he spluttered, “What did- how did-”
His spluttering faded into a stunned silence, his eyes darted down to where Alya had herself
covered with the blanket and he made a strange strangled sound. Turning away, Nino brought a
hand up to cover his mouth. “Did we. Oh man we did, didn’t we?”

“Alcohol is a powerful drug I guess,” Alya replied. For some reason, Nino’s shock was comforting
somehow. It made her calm down and think about things logically.

They were silent for a while, caught somewhere between awkwardness and acceptance of the
situation they’d landed themselves in. Eventually, Nino sighed and ran a hand through his already
messy hair. He kept his eyes off of her but, from the corner of her eye, Alya noticed his hand
subconsciously reaching towards her. It stopped just short of her thigh, curling into a fist. “Do you
want me to make you a coffee? You can- you know- get changed and stuff. When I’m gone. F-for,
privacy.”

“Coffee sounds good thanks,” Alya replied quietly, staring at her lap. On top of her headache, now
her entire face was burning. It wasn’t a fun combination.

Nino got out of bed, quickly finding a discarded pair of boxers and robe. “I’ll be right back,” he
said.

And then he was gone, leaving Alya to her thoughts.

She flopped backwards, trying to regain a sense of equilibrium in both her mind and body. After
sending a few hysterical texts to Marinette, who hadn’t come to the singles night, she began getting
dressed.

Until she came across her attire from the night before; a short, strapless dress. Yeah, because that’s
what she needed to take the metro home in on a freezing Saturday morning. Last night’s clothes. A
walking cliché. That’s what she’d be. Literally.

Not that she felt any shame in sleeping with Nino. Whatever she felt about it, and she was still
unsure, shame wasn’t on that list at all. On the contrary it was how cold she’d be. She didn’t have
an alcohol jacket protecting her from the bitingly cold air this time around.

It was as she was contemplating this that the door opened and Nino came back with homemade
coffee. On instinct, she pulled the dress up against her body.

“Oh sorry,” Nino replied, ducking his head. He froze at the door.

Alya smiled, trying to alleviate the delicate tension in the air. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me
naked.”

Nino let out a squeaky laugh. “I guess so,” he replied, walking towards his bedside table, on the
other side of the bed to Alya, and setting down the coffee. He sighed. “Alya, we should talk I”- he
stopped when her dress caught his eye. “Wait, you wanna go home in that? It’s even colder today
than it was yesterday. You’ll freeze.”

She shrugged. “It’s not like this was a planned sleepover, what do want me to do?”

He thought for a moment, before rummaging around the chest of drawers on the side of his bed.
Alya stood there, not really knowing what to do. She wasn’t used to feeling so awkward.

“You can borrow these,” he said, placing tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie on the bed between them.
“They’ll be big on you, but they’re comfy and warm. Not that I disapprove of that dress. You
looked totally hot in it. I just don’t want you to be cold.”

Alya shuffled forwards picking up the hoodie with a smile. Her heart stirred. She remembered
kissing him, and wanted to do it again. He was so sweet. “Thanks Nino.”

“No problem,” he replied and sat on the bed with his back to her, sipping his coffee, until she let
him know she was dressed. When she sat back on the bed, he handed her coffee to her and she took
a blessed sip. He remembered how she liked it. Milk and bit of sugar.

She liked being in his clothes. It made her feel safe somehow- like something colossal had shifted
in their relationship. But it was ok because he was still there for her like he’d always been before. It
just meant more now.

“Are you ok?” Nino asked after a moment of genuinely comforting silence between them. It was so
natural, like this is what they should have been doing all along, that Alya had to double take at the
question. When she shot a confused look Nino’s way, he elaborated, “It’s just- I know that girls can
hurt after…you know. I- I don’t know if it was your first time. I mean it was my first time and I
know we had a pact but I don’t own you or anything and I”-

“Nino, honey, breathe,” Alya interrupted him, gently placing her hand on his and giving it a
squeeze. “It was my first time too.”

He looked at her then, and Alya saw the same shift reflected in his eyes that she herself felt in her
heart. Reality settled in that moment, locked them together. Alya had heard jokes in the past, of
chains and being locked down. But it wasn’t like that. Not with Nino. Instead, it felt like an
unbreakable ribbon, tying them together, holding them in a place they had no intention of leaving.

Nino smiled shyly. She returned the gesture. He began to stroke the back of her hand with his
thumb.

“What I was going to say is that, I know girls can hurt afterwards. Do you… are you ok? Do you
need anything? A hot water bottle? Some painkillers? Let me know, okay?”

Alya couldn’t help herself. Grabbing the lapels of his robe, she pulled him down into a loving,
passionate kiss, throwing all of her feelings into the gesture. All the frustration, the years of pining,
the overwhelming feelings of love. All of it went into the simple gesture that lasted mere seconds
before she was pulling away and blurting out. “I don’t want any of that. I want you. I want you,
Nino. Screw the pact, screw not dating until we’ve passed our exams, screw love being a
distraction. It was a distraction anyway. The pact is dumb and we were dumb for setting it up in the
first place.”

“You’re not dumb,” he replied instantly, eyes dazed from both the kiss and the confession.

Alya’s mouth dropped open. “That’s what you took from that?!”

“I’m not as quick as you, okay? I need time to process,” he stared into his coffee cup, and stuck his
finger in it before taking it out with a hiss of pain. “OW. Yeah okay not a dream.”

“What on earth are you doing?” Alya asked, crossing her arms over her chest with a frown.

“The girl of my dreams woke up in my bed, confessed to me and kissed me,” he explained. “I’m
just checking it’s real.”

The frown disappeared from Alya’s face as quickly as it had formed there. Honestly. She was in
love with such a hopeless sweetheart. Shuffling closer, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Silly,
of course it’s real.”

He rested his head on top of hers. “Then, I guess, can I take you on a date? Like a real date.
Because I’d really like to see you naked when I’m sober.”

Alya burst out laughing. “Yeah, I bet you would, and who says I’d sleep with you on the first
date?” she said in mock offense, puffing out her chest and placing a hand on her heart.
“Apparently, I only sleep with guys before the first date.”

Nino chuckled. “Well it worked out, didn’t it?”

Alya dropped the act. “Yeah. Yeah I’ll say it did.”

“Good. Cause I… I really want you too. Not just for this”- he gestured to the messy, unmade bed,
“-but because I- I love you Alya. I have for so long now. All I want is to be with you, make you
happy, hold you when you’re sad, eat ice cream and watch dumb movies with you. All of that
cheesy stuff and more. Forever.”

Alya was certain that it’d take a week to wipe the stupidly large grin from her face, and that she’d
look like an idiot during that whole time. But she didn’t care. She was far too happy to care.

“I love you too,” she said, kissing his cheek. “And I’d love to go on a date with you.” She paused.
“But first, I think I need to figure out a way out of your house without your parents seeing me. I am
 not ready for that conversation.”

“Yeah you’re right,” Nino agreed with a shudder. “They weren’t in the kitchen when I made coffee
so maybe they’re still in bed.”

As if on cue, Nino’s mother bellowed up the stairs “NINO, COME AND GET BREAKFAST!
YOU’LL NEED SOMETHING TO SETTLE THAT HANGOVER.”

Followed by Nino’s father adding, “TELL ALYA SHE CAN HAVE SOME TOO.”

Well. That solved that problem then.

The pair looked at each other, caught somewhere between amusement, horror, and mortification.
After a brief pause, Alya shrugged, got up, and offered a hand to Nino. He grinned, accepting her
hand and not letting go as they made their way down to the kitchen together.

Sure, it might have been an awkward situation. But they were safe now, in the knowledge that they
had each other to get themselves through it.

And that was worth all of the cringey parental teasing in the world.

Chapter End Notes

Hope you enjoyed this bonus chapter! See you next time for the Bodyguard Arc!

Follow Eden on Tumblr!

Follow Midnight on Tumblr!
Follow Midnight on Instagram!
follow Eden on Instagram!
 The Bodyguard Arc Part l
Chapter Notes

It's my birthday today so I thought I'd celebrate it with an update! And this a biiiig
chapter so hold onto your butts and have fun! The Bodyguard Arc is finally here!!!!! -
Love, Midnight XxXx

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Remind me why I’m here again?”

Nino’s voice turned high and squeaky when a model, clad only in a bikini, brushed past him to get
to the food table he was standing by. She picked up a few carrot sticks and sauntered off, leaving
Nino all but covering his eyes from the sight of her near naked body. When she was out of sight, he
picked up a tray of donuts and nervously shoved one into his mouth whole.

Marinette giggled, plucking a donut off of the plate herself. “Adrien asked us to meet him here.
Why? You scared of the sexy models?”

“I’m not scared!” Nino cried. Although, with a mouthful of donut, it sounded more like ‘Imff noh
sahrred!” and a few sprinkles flew out of his mouth. When Marinette raised and eyebrow at him, he
finished chewing and added, more clearly, “I just- you know- Alya and stuff. I don’t want her to
think I’m ogling other girls like some horn dog.”

“Well that’s very noble of you,” Marinette teased as Nino shoved another donut in his mouth, just
as she finished her own. “Although, you’re going to be made of dough if you keep nervous eating
like that.”

“The models aren’t going to eat them, are they?” Nino shrugged. “More for us!”

“You make an excellent point,” Marinette agreed with a wry smile, taking the tray away from
Nino. “All for me!”

The pair began half-wrestling for the donuts, laughing and earning the ire or amusement of nearby
staff and models alike. Neither of them noticed one such model approaching them.

“Ah come on Mari, no fair!”

“Na-uh! I’m cutting you off for the night, you’ve had enough.”

“I’ll tell ya when I’ve had enough!”

“You two look like you’re having fun.”

The pair froze in place, Marinette still clutching the tray as Nino had been unable to retrieve it
from her clutches. There they stood, in some sort of strange sitcom-esque freezeframe, which
Adrien chuckled at them for.

Nino himself wasn’t bothered by the sight of his friend and was the first to recover. Standing up
straighter he raised a hand to Adrien and offered a friendly head bob, which Adrien returned.
Marinette wasn’t so quick to recover.

The thing about swimsuit photoshoots, she realised all too late, was that it wasn’t just the female
models who were half naked.

Her brain jutted to a halt, completely overwhelmed by wild hair and glistening skin and abs. ABS.
Since when did Adrien (Mr ‘I’ll just wear a casual sweater over a button-down because I
desperately want you to know I’m a graduate student’) have ABS?!

Idiot, Marinette chided herself, he’s a model, you’ve seen him in advertisements before, you know
he has abs. You’ve just never seen them in person before.

But it was seeing those abs in person, his broad chest and wonderfully toned arms, that had her
shaken to her core. The way every inch of him seemed sculpted by the gods themselves, that had
her legs quaking, her arms jelly-like and no longer able to support anything she was carrying.

She dropped the tray.

The metallic sound might as well have been a gunshot for all the attention it drew. All at once the
buzz around the studio died as the ringing sound of the metal on the hard, stone floor echoed
around the room. At least a dozen eyes were now turned onto Marinette and the fallen pastries at
her feet.

She wanted to die .

“THE DONUTS!” Nino yelled, distraught.

Marinette swore under her breath. Turning her eyes away from Adrien’s chest (holy heck was is
defined) she instead focused on cleaning up the mess she made. She mumbled an apology and
leaned down. Nino, sensing her embarrassment, tried to cover it up by making a bigger fool of
himself. Picking up a few donuts and cradling them to his chest, he faked a sob that Marinette was
only half-convinced wasn’t real. “It was before your time, little dude. So young. So fresh. Not yet
eaten.”

As she scooped up a particularly smushed pastry, her hand brushed another. By the time she looked
up, Adrien had retracted his hand away as though he’d been burned. Her breath caught at the look
he was sending her way. Nobody that shirtless should look that soft and sheepish. It was entirely
unfair.

“S-sorry,” he said, though Marinette had no idea what exactly he was apologising for.

“No, it’s ok,” Marinette replied and the pair began to pick up the remaining donuts. They lapsed
into an awkward silence, in which Marinette grew more and more annoyed with herself. Adrien
was her friend . Just because he was ‘drop food’ levels of hot (one of the highest levels of hot there
was), it didn’t mean she should start losing her head around him, drooling over him like she was a
stray dog and he was a piece of steak. She might as well be one of those creeps that stalk the
models present on Instagram.

Oh, and there was also the fact that she had a sort-of boyfriend who she had regular trysts with, and
whom had a very, very…very nice body himself. An aforementioned Instagram-model worthy
body.

Double tap indeed.

A part of her wanted to argue that it was ok to find Adrien attractive. She wasn’t blind after all. But
she also didn’t think it was appropriate to get all flustered over another guy when she was planning
to confess her identity to Chat Noir that same night.

So there she was, stuck in an internal war which rendered her incapable of saying much beyond a
mumbled ‘thanks’ to Adrien and Nino for helping her pick up the donuts.

“No problem,” he replied offering her his hand. Frosting covered and all, Marinette placed her hand
in his and he pulled her to her feet. His bare arm muscles tensed for a moment and Marinette’s
thoughts went somewhere she really didn’t want them to go. Once again her legs felt unsteady, as
though they might melt at any moment and leave her falling to the floor and further beyond it, in to
the deeper parts of hell.

And hell, she was beginning to suspect, was exactly where she belonged.

Adrien still hadn’t let go of her hand. His eyes bore into hers, the intensity familiar in a way, but
there was uncertainty there. A question Marinette couldn’t understand nor answer. He opened his
mouth to say something, but nothing came out. All of it left her at a loss, adrift in a sea of confused
and yet his hand was the lighthouse guiding her home and WOW these were NOT appropriate
thoughts. This was NOT what friends did.

Why wasn’t he letting go? Why did she want him to keep a hold of her?

No.

Bad Marinette.

STOP.

Nino coughed and whatever spell had had its hold over the pair broke. Adrien dropped her hand
and a rush of relief and guilt came over her so strongly that she felt almost high from it. High and
low at once. The feelings festered in a little ball at the bottom of her stomach, knotting and twisting
unpleasantly.

So she did the only thing she could think of doing. Ignore the heck out of it.

When Marinette turned to Nino, alerted by his previous cough (which, in hindsight, sounded
incredibly fake), she found an Alya-like expression written across his features. This was worrisome
in more ways than Marinette could count, but the motives behind the expression remained unclear.

With a cheeky grin, Nino sauntered over to Adrien. “Soooo, buddy,” he said, wrapping his arm
around his friend before yanking it back again with a cry of disgust. “ICK! Why are you all
greasy?”

Adrien laughed, which sounded nicer than normal, and Marinette started considering whether or
not her Ladybug powers were evolving, because she was certainly burning a hole through the floor
with how hard she was staring at it. Everything about this was wrong and she hated it.

“Yeah, they oil us up for swimsuit shoots. So it looks like you’re all hot and sweaty and beachy.
It’s… pretty uncomfortable actually,” Adrien then wiggled a little, to emphasise how strange it
must feel to have your whole body covered in oil. “But it looks good in photos apparently so yeah.”
He shrugged.

“Well I guess that works for some people,” Nino replied, wrinkling his nose as he wiped the excess
oil off of his bare arm. “I bet it works for the other models, right? Especially the girls.”
Marinette’s head shot up and she glared daggers at Nino. Nino simply shrugged, the Alya-like
smile still one his face. He adjusted his glasses, one hand coming up to cover the side of his face
closest to Adrien and winked.

What the hell was his game?

“Girls? You mean the other models?” Adrien blinked, looking so doe-eyed and innocent that for a
moment Marinette had trouble remembering he was actually a few years older than them.

Nino scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Come on dude, I’ve seen the way some of those girls have been
staring at you. You can’t tell me that you don’t get a little…you know…with them.”

He did a little dance with his head, elongating his words to emphasise what he was trying to imply,
and Marinette suddenly understood the term ‘fight or flight’ in the most visceral of ways. Because
she wanted to crawl under the food table and shove her fingers in her ears so she didn’t ever have to
hear Adrien’s answer and, at the same time, desired nothing more than to grab Nino’s cap and
shove it directly into his mouth.

Finally, Adrien understood what Nino was getting at. His eyes bulged, his cheeks flushed and he
turned to Marinette with a panicked look in his eyes. “Wait- you think I hook up with-? N-No, I
don’t. Never. Not once.” His eyes once again fixed on her in a way that made Marinette feel like he
was desperate to prove to her that Nino’s assumption was wrong. “I’m not like- I’m not the kind of
guy. I don’t…”

Nino, sensing Adrien’s growing distress, relaxed his fake ‘douchebag’ persona and smiled fondly
at him. “Hey dude, relax. It’s ok. I was only teasing.”

“Yes, please , ignore Nino,” Marinette replied through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the funny
feeling in her chest she had at the fact that Adrien has focused solely on her in his mission to
convince them he wasn’t (as Nino had put it previously) a ‘horn dog.’ “He’s recently suffered a
tragic donut loss. He’s not thinking clearly.”

“She’s right,” Nino nodded. “I’m a mess.”

Adrien looked between the both of them with a wary (but not suspicious) expression. Luckily,
Marinette was able to force down any feelings of murder or discomfort at that moment, so that she
could look reassuring. After a few moments, Adrien relaxed, even being as good humoured as to
giggle at his own expense, which was far too endearing. “Ok, you got me. Good one.”

He offered a fist out to Nino, who casually bumped it back. “See now you’re making me feel bad,
bro! You’re too kind to tease.”

Adrien laughed. “Sorry, but you shouldn’t feel bad, I was the one that changed our plans because
of this last minute schedule change. Besides, this place is a lot stuffier without you guys around.”
He smiled warmly. “I’m really glad you came today.”

Aaaaaaaand Marinette was back to feeling both confused and all gooey. God damn it.

Luckily, she was saved from any further suffering or awkwardness, as Adrien’s photographer
called him over to start another round of shots. The man was short, with a heavily oiled comb-over
and a handlebar moustache. He reminded Marinette of those silly old black-and-white comedies her
grandmother used to watch. From beside her, Nino chucked at the photographers crazy, mime-like
gesturing.

“Got to go,” Adrien added with another sheepish smile, only this one looked markedly more tired
at the prospect of getting under those hot studio lights again. Marinette couldn’t blame him. Just
being on set was intense enough, and she was merely there for moral support. “You can always get
closer and try to distract me by pulling silly faces.”

“Is that a challenge Agreste?” Nino said with an air of playfulness. “Because I think you’re
underestimating just how dumb I can make my face look. I’ll have you breaking your sexy model
persona like that.” He clicked his fingers.

“We’ll see,” Adrien replied with a flash of something wicked and challenging in his vivid green
eyes. For a moment, Marinette was struck with such a feeling of déjà vu, that it gave her emotional
whiplash.

“We’ll jump up on you,” Marinette squeaked. “I MEAN- KETCHUP. I mean CATCH. Catch up!
We are going to catch up to you. In a minute.”

For a second Marinette wished she had another tray of donuts to drop. Then she heard Adrien laugh
once, deep and low, and then flipped to a more absurd wish of the donuts dropping her. Preferably
in a black hole.

“Cute.”

Her head snapped up again. “Heh?”

Well. At least she wasn’t the only one to feel blindsided. Adrien’s face drained of colour, his
mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like he’d been caught doing something he really shouldn’t
have. “I- I just meant. Umm… never mind. I’m going to go now.”

He about turned as quickly as possible, all but sprinting away and nearly knocking over a light in
the process. He didn’t look back.

Nino was the first to speak. Or rather laugh.

“Oh my god, you guys are so obvious it hurts.”

This broke Marinette out of her daze. Cute? Adrien thought she was being cute? She scowled at
Nino, as if he was the only one holding back the answers. “What do you mean? And also”- she
poked his side and he leapt away from her with a yelp- “that for that dumb ‘girl models’ question.
What the hell were you thinking?”

“Hey I was only looking out for you,” Nino replied waving his arms. “If I had to pretend to be one
of those types of gross dudes to do it, so be it. You’re like my sister you know? And I know we’ve
known Adrien for a long time, but we don’t know anything about his love life. I was just- you
know- checking. Making sure he wasn’t a pump and dump kind of guy.” He looked at her seriously
then. “Was I over the line?”

Marinette thought about it for a moment, before relenting with a gentle sigh. “No. It’s ok. You
were trying to be a good friend,” she said, wandering closer toward where Adrien was taking
photos. “I mean, your actions are totally misplaced though. Adrien doesn’t like me like that.”

Nino smirked, following her. “But you like hiiiiim right?”

“Nino,” she warned.

“Oh come on I know I have a handsome, young face, but I wasn’t born yesterday,” Nino argued
with a snort. “You were totally drooling. Not that I blame you. Dude’s ripped like a pair of
noughties jeans.” He then frowned. “Woah. It’s finally happening. I’ve been hanging around you
too much. I’m starting to be fluent in Fashion.”

“Har-har,” Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m ignoring that drooling comment. It’s wrong and you’re
wrong.”

“You can ignore me but you can’t ignore the t-r-u-t-h,” Nino spelled out in a sing-song voice.
“That’s the title of my next album. The first single is going to be about Adrien’s Totally. Obvious.
Crush. He called you cute.”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of the clicky cameras!” Marinette raised her voice just a little
louder, as if that would have any impact in driving Nino’s words from her mind. The opposite
happened. His words burrowed into her mind like little seeds of doubt.

Crush? Really?

No way. There was no way!

They came to a stop on the side of Adrien’s photoshoot. Beside her, Nino was muttering something
about if he’d been that annoying to deal with before he and Alya got together, but Marinette
ignored him. Instead, worries about silly boys and things like that were pushed to the side in favour
of getting some first-hand experience of the fashion industry. A familiar excitement bubbled in her,
the feeling of opportunity and possibility. She imagined, for a moment, designing clothes which
models like Adrien would wear on photoshoots exactly like this one.

Her love life might be a mess, and these new allegations that Adrien had a crush on her had
certainly rocked her to her core, but fashion was concrete. Fashion was something she knew as
well as her own hands, as well as the fact that she was Ladybug.

As a designer, she probably wasn’t going to be as involved in this part of the process, but it was
still exciting to get any exposure to a world she was attempting to make a name for herself in. That
excitement gave her reassurance and clarity.

The photographer who’d beckoned Adrien over was moving around Adrien with such speed that he
seemed to blur at the edges. Marinette watched from the sidelines, so entranced by the show that
she failed to notice a figure slowly approaching to her right.

Adrien was posing, shoulders broad, skin glistening, chin up proudly. He stared into the camera
with a serious expression, as one of his thumbs disappeared underneath the waistband of the swim
shorts he wore, branded with that signature “G” on the bottom right. Somewhere, a fan was
blowing so his hair ruffled, becoming windswept and unkempt. He looked unfairly sexy, so
different to the mild mannered and gentle guy Marinette had come to know.

“It’s good Adrien, it’s good,” the photographer encouraged as he lowered his camera and a few
makeup artists dashed out of the shadows to touch up Adrien’s foundation before scurrying off
again. For some reason, this tickled Nino, who began chuckling until one of the assistants shot him
a dirty look. Then he fell silent. “But I need a little more. Your body says yes but I need your
expression to say it even more.”

“What do you mean?” Adrien said, tilting his head.

“Your eyes. They’re distracted,” the photographer waved his hand. “I need them to be here, in the
moment. The camera is your love, your desire. I need you to think of someone you want. Someone
you desire more than anything in the world. Imagine they’re here right now and you want nothing
more than to seduce them. That’s the look I need from you.”

How people could say such things seriously, and not want to melt in embarrassment, Marinette had
no idea. But Adrien was looking down, frowning in thought, so whatever the photographer had
meant must have made sense to him at least.

However, whatever Adrien’s seductive expression looked like, Marinette never found out. As soon
as they began shooting again, she was distracted by a tap on the shoulder. “Excuse me?”

When she turned her head, she came face to face with another half-naked model. Although it
looked like his shoot has finished. He towered over her, too close for her liking, and she took a step
back. Clad in a fluffy half-open bathrobe, his dusky brown hair tied up in a man bun and his skin
clearly artificially bronzed, he evoked a Greek God type of persona. He’d certainly look at home
lounging on a chaise, being fed grapes by his scantily clad female servants.

And, judging by the way he was eyeing her, it looked like this stranger wanted Marinette to be one
of those scantily clad servants.

Still, Marinette was a girl taught to judge by people’s actions, not their appearance. After all, he
was probably paid a pretty penny to look like a douche. But maybe he used that model money to
rescue abandoned puppies or something?

So she gave him a slightly confused smile and replied with a simple, “Err, yes?”

He placed his hands in a prayer-like position and rested them against him lips. “I really need your
help, if you’d be so kind,” he said, his voice so urgent that it spiked Marinette’s Ladybug instincts.
Was there trouble?

Before Marinette could inquire further, the stranger came around to her side, all but elbowing Nino
out of the way, and placed his hand on her lower back. For a split second, Marinette froze at the
touch. That second was apparently all it took for the guy to press his hand against her harder,
manoeuvring her away from Adrien’s photoshoot. “Umm…” she began to protest with a frown.

The stranger cut her off, with a smile so blindingly white that Marinette thought his teeth were fake
for a split second. Maybe he had them bleached? “Thank goodness someone here can help me. The
water in my dressing room has berries in it and I specifically requested cucumber water!” He said
this as if someone had kicked his grandmother. “The sugar in the fruit will make my face puffy,
we can’t have that now can we?”
He turned to her with a wink and Marinette was so taken aback by it all that she gaped like a koi
fish. Questionable science aside, she had to wonder what was he doing asking her about this? Then
the penny dropped. “Wait, do you think I work here? I don’t.”

Once again, he ignored her, and was still pushing her away from the photoshoot into one of the
darker corners on the room, no doubt towards his dressing room. Alarm bells started going off in
Marinette’s head and she began digging her heels in. “Naturally, I know it wasn’t you who made
this mistake, you just can’t find good help these days. But I’d be ever so grateful if you could fix
this for me, Sweetheart.”

That did it. In a flash, Marinette twisted around, yanking the stranger’s hand from her back and
stepping away from him with a scowl. “Hey, asshole do you need your ears fixed? I said I don’t
work here. And even if I did, that kind of pet name is totally inappropriate. What the hell is your
problem?”

His face dropped from one of confidence to one of almost exaggerated horror. He took a step back,
arms raised, looking more like a caricature than the photographer with his crazy gestures.
Marinette crossed her own arms, raising an eyebrow as she waited for whatever he was about to
say. Oh. This ought to be good.

“I am terribly sorry Mademoiselle,” he crooned, leaning down towards her in a half bow. He
placed one hand against his heart. Well, at least Marinette knew why he was a model. His acting
was appalling. “I should have known, you are far too beautiful to be part of the help. Are you a
model yourself?”

“No,” was all Marinette said in response. Perhaps it was icy of her, but the more he spoke, the
more bad vibes she got from him. Why did he keep referring to all the assistants as The Help?
Didn’t he know how rude and snobby he sounded?

Nevertheless, her less-than-impressed attitude didn’t seem to defer him from whatever goal he had
in mind. Marinette had a fairly good idea as to what his goal was too.

And she wasn’t having any of it.

Her arms tightened around herself, her eyes narrowed. Body-language wise, she did everything in
her power to make sure she had a metaphorical “GET LOST, JERK” sign plastered on her head.

The stranger was yet to be deterred. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am François. But you’ve
probably heard of me already. And your name is?”

Marinette wanted nothing more than to honestly tell him she had no idea who he was, but was
prevented from doing so as Nino hurried over, calling her name. “Marinette! There you are! Where
you been? Adrien’s finished with his photoshoot and he’s just signing some autographs. He’ll be
ready to go soon.”

François’s eyebrow arched and he gave Nino a sweeping glance laced with judgement. Nino gave
him a blank stare in response.

“Anyway,” François replied, as if that one word might dismiss Nino from the conversation. He
turned his body to face Marinette more, making it clear that Nino was not welcome. “Marinette,
was it? Beautiful name.”

“Gee. Thanks,” Marinette said, tone so dry she might as well have been speaking after spending a
week in the Sahara. From beside her, Nino snorted. She deliberately didn’t look at him, else she
might burst out laughing.

“Allow me to take you out, to make up for my earlier faux pas. I feel so very awful about it. What
do you say, Sweetheart?” He winked.

From beside her, almost too quiet to hear, Marinette heard Nino whisper a despairing, “Dude,”
under his breath.

“Well, for starters, stop calling me Sweetheart,” Marinette said, wrinkling her nose. “Secondly,
that’s kind of you to offer, but I’m seeing someone right now.”

She hadn’t meant to say it. She really hadn’t. It just slipped out! But maybe it was for the best?
François didn’t have to know who exactly she was seeing, and Nino would assume she was lying to
get rid of François. So really, it was a win-win.

François scoffed, his smile widening as though he was trying to force it to stay there. It made him
look more like a cat about to catch a canary. “Please, pardon me if this might seem forward. But I
have a lot to offer a lady such as yourself.”

“Hey, Man-Bun,” Nino scowled, moving forward more, the frown on his face was one Marinette
was exceedingly familiar with. She called it his big brother look. “Learn how to take no for an
answer and we can all move on with our lives and have cake or whatever gluten-free, no carb, no
sugar, no fun snack you eat. No need to make this embarrassing.”

For the first time, the smile on François face disappeared. He fixed Nino with a threatening glower,
but Nino stayed put. Not budging. François dropped the staring war they had first, turning his
attention back to Marinette.

“It would be a good opportunity for you, wouldn’t you say? I’m sure whoever it is you’re seeing
can’t possibly compare to this,” He gestured to himself, the winning smirk back on his face, and
Marinette honestly wanted to gag.

“No. I already told you I’m not interested. I’m very sorry. Have a good day.”

She turned around, gesturing for Nino to follow her, and the pair made their way back towards
Adrien, who was chatting to an over eager looking fan with mop of dark brown hair and alarmingly
skinny jeans. He waved at them and they wandered over casually.

“God, what a creep,” Nino said, wrinkling his nose.

“I know!” Marinette cried, “he was so weird.”

“I hope you’re not talking about my shoot,” Adrien grinned cheekily as the pair of them walked up
to him. He signed another one of the posters the over-eager fan was brandishing at him with a
flourish.

Marinette frowned, “Oh damn, I’m sorry Adrien! I missed practically all of the last bit! I was…
err…” she trailed off, wringing her hands. How could she explain the predicament she’d gotten in?

“Some model was hitting on her,” Nino added bluntly.

Adrien dropped the pen he’d been holding.

“Don’t worry, Adrien, I’ve got it!” the over eager fan said, diving for the pen and scrambling to
hand it back to him.

“Thanks Wayhem,” Adrien replied to the fan distractedly, before turning to Marinette with a
strange look on his face. “A model was hitting on you? W- Who?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Marinette replied with a dismissive hand wave, “I turned him down anyways.
The guy was creepy. It’s over now. I’d really like to forget about it.”

Unfortunately for Marinette, however, she wasn’t about to forget it any time soon. A tap on her
shoulder revealed that François had followed them over to Adrien. Without addressing anyone else,
he leaned down towards Marinette. Before she could say or do anything, he pressed his lips close
against her ear, whispering gently. As he did so, he reached out and began running his fingers
through her green hair ribbons. Her Chat Noir ribbons.

Marinette immediately recoiled backwards, away from his touch, but this didn’t seem to phase him.

“Here’s my card. I wrote my personal phone number on it. I only give that out to the most special
girls.” At last, he stepped away. “In case you change your mind.”

Marinette saw red. She shoved the card back towards François’ chest with enough force that he
stumbled backwards. “I don’t care! I already told you I’m not interested and I’m seeing someone! I
don’t know who you think you are, but you’re incredibly rude and even if I wasn’t seeing
someone, I wouldn’t want to date you. Now leave me alone!”

The façade of suaveness was gone now. Instead, François glowered at her. “Now really, who could
you possibly be seeing worth your while enough to turn someone like me down?”
“ME.”

Adrien’s voice cut above the din like a knife slicing through butter. The commotion his remaining
fans were making suddenly stopped. Everyone in the nearby vicinity fell quiet.

Marinette’s mouth opened, but she quickly closed it again before François could see. Her heartbeat
stuttered to a halt.

“You?” François replied. For a moment, the tension in the room was so tight it was hard to breathe,
as the pair stared each other down.

Nino, sensing the heightened emotions, took a step in between them. Holding out a palm towards
François, he fixed him with a stern stare. “You heard them both now, Marinette’s turned you down
twice. Come on. Let end this nicely, yeah? No need for things to get heated.”

Adrien edged closer towards Marinette. For show, Marinette slipped her arm around his waist and
gazed up at him with an adoring smile. Adrien’s body stiffened for a split second at the contact,
before he relaxed, reaching up to play with her ribbons. She much preferred him touching them
than freaking François. Of course, Chat playing with them would always be her favourite. Still…
this was nice.
Too nice, in fact. Marinette was a hugger, and she’d hugged Adrien many a time. But this fake
show felt oddly real- natural- as if they’d always done it. The robe he now donned, similar to
François only tied up for modesty’s sake, was warm and soft, clearly made of expensive materials.
She wanted to snuggle up into it.

The pretend display, along with Nino’s placating words, was enough to finally get it through
François mind that he was fighting a losing battle. After another moment of sharp silence, he shot
one last glare at the group before storming off.

“Jeez what was his deal?” Nino grumbled, wrinkling his nose. Adrien, who Marinette noticed still
hadn't let go of her, shrugged.

“He's always been like that, just ignore him,” he replied, turning to Marinette. Their close
proximity was thrown into the light when she noticed just how long his eyelashes were. As soon as
their eyes met, Adrien softened considerably. The tenseness from the confrontation was gone and,
when he spoke again, his tone was so gentle that the world fell away and only the two of them
were left and oh my god, what was happening?! “Are you ok?”

“Who, me?” Marinette blinked, bobbing her head in a baffled manner. Why did her throat feel
weird? Like all she wanted to do was throw up word vomit. She scoffed, waving her hand. “I'm
fiiiine .” She was not fine, but for other reasons. “I can handle guys like that, you know me!” As if
to emphasise her toughness, she pulled her free hand up into a fist.

Adrien chuckled once, low and fond. It reminded her of sunshine and darkened corners and secret
kisses. It reminded her…of something- tickled the corners of her memories and taunted her
emotions until her mind felt like it was scribbled in by kids who didn't know how to colour inside
the lines.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” he said.

A bright flash went off, which Marinette wouldn’t have been too bothered about, having gotten
used to the sight of random camera flashes during her short time at the studio. But this particular
flash was so close, and the shutter didn't sound like it came from a heavy, professional camera.

It sounded like it came from a phone.

“Oh my god this is amazing,” the intense fan, Wayhem, cheered from the other side of the camera.
Marinette was unsettled by the overwhelming, hyper-intense joy in his eyes. Was that normal fan
behaviour? Did he run some sort of Adrien fan club? “I've never known you to have a girlfriend
before, Adrien, congratulations!” He took another photo “Marinette was it?”

“Wayhem,” Adrien said, the softness in his voice gone. The world came violently back into view,
and Adrien and Marinette stepped apart. “Please don't post those online. The tabloids will go
crazy.”

“Ok, ok, avoid the tabloids. Gotcha!” Wayhem beamed.

Adrien raised a hand in panic, as security approached his few remaining fans and began to usher
them out. “No wait that's not what I meant.”

But Wayhem could no longer hear what Adrien was saying. With one last, furiously enthusiastic,
wave he disappeared from the studio doors, along with Adrien's other fans, and was gone from
sight. Marinette, Nino and Adrien were alone.

There's a type of silence, a strange kind of liminal space, that occurs between friends only after a
series of baffling events have taken place in quick succession. A shared sense of being rooted to
the spot a yet floating at the same time, as though reality hadn't quite caught up with what
happened. Like pressing the snooze button on the alarm a few times. Such silences are usually
broken by one of the friends swearing and this instance was no exception.

“Yo, what the fuck just happened?” Nino spluttered, somewhere between shocked and amused. His
head swivelled between Adrien and Marinette “Did you two just get outed as being in a fake
relationship? Unless there's something you need to tell me?”

He said the last part in his teasing dude-bro voice from earlier, but eased up when Adrien groaned
and buried his head in his hands.

“I'm sorry, Marinette,” Adrien whispered after a while, head hung low. He avoided eye contact.

Marinette smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “It's alright. You were only trying to help. It was
good of you to hop on my lie like that. Sometimes guys like that don't take no for an answer until
another guy steps in. It's gross, and sad that it has to be like that, but it happens.”

She thought her words might offer some semblance of comfort to him. If anything, however, it
seemed as though she'd made it worse. He looked more panicked and torn than before.

“Right,” Adrien replied with a nervous laugh. “Because we're not dating! I wasn't thinking of
anything like that when I stepped in or anything. I just wanted to help,” he laughed again before
heaving a sigh. “I guess I made it worse though, huh?”

“You don't know that Bud, that freaky Wayhem guy might not post those pics,” Nino replied. He
shuddered. “Did anyone get anyone else get chill from him? Something seemed seriously off.”

“And even if he does post those pics or start acting weirder, I can handle it,” Marinette said and she
meant it. She'd handled far worse after all. Though she couldn't say that without opening a
Pandora’s Box she'd rather keep closed.

“Of course,” Adrien replied kindly. “It's just... all that stuff. It's such a hassle to deal with. I'd like to
protect all my friends from it if I can.”

“Behold the noble hero!” Marinette chuckled with a flourish. Adrien laughed back, this time with
the absence of any fear or guilt. It was good to hear.

“Now can the noble hero please put on some actual clothes so we can go grab something to eat?”
Nino huffed.

Adrien agreed, letting them know he wouldn't be long, but that he did need to have a quick shower
to get rid of the remaining oil on his body. He went to his dressing room, leaving Nino and
Marinette waiting by the studio doors. The commotion around them had quietened considerably,
though a few models were still finishing up their shoots.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Nino began scuffing the floor with his shoe. “Look, I'm just
going to ask you just the once ok? And whatever you say, I'll believe you.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose warily, “Okaaaay?”

“Are you sure you don't have a thing for Adrien? I mean, you two looked pretty cosy, canoodling
back there. I'm only asking because, if you did like him, I think you two would be great together.
And I think he seriously likes you too, like beyond a crush. You know he looked at you when the
photographer asked him to think about someone he wanted seduce? And you should have seen how
angry he was when that François dude touched you. He looked like he wanted to rip his fingers
off."

Marinette felt trapped, unaware of what exactly she should say. All she knew was that, not for the
first time today, a heavy guilt settled on her chest. She couldn't even begin to fathom the idea that
Adrien liked her in that way, or how conflicted that made her feel.

And why should it make her feel conflicted? She loved Chat. She'd loved him since she was
sixteen years old. He was her first love, in more ways than one. They'd been through so much
together. They were dating...

Except they weren't. Not really. Not honestly. She was hoping to fix that last part tonight, but the
anxiety about that was like the hands of a giant grandfather clock, incessantly ticking above her
head, driving her ever closer to madness.

When she hadn't spoke for a while, Nino (sensing her distress) put his arm around her and gave her
a friendly squeeze. “Feelings are super hard to work through. If you are going through some stuff,
you know you don't have to do it alone. I'm here, so is Alya, and you helped us through all our
relationship drama way back when. I just hope it goes better for you.”

“Well I won't make a pact to not date him, get drunk and sleep with him, if that's what you're
suggesting?” Marinette teased.

“No I'm suggesting do the literal opposite of that,” Nino laughed. “Go for it!”

The lightness she’d recovered in teasing Nino faded and the heaviness settled back into her bones.
Suddenly, all she felt was tired; tired of secrets and lies and half-truths. Marinette bit her lip.
“Nino... it's complicated.”

He regarded her, bobbing her head his head to the side, “Ok, that’s fine too. But, be careful ok?
With whatever you’re dealing with. You’re smart so I know you can handle whatever your
complicated stuff dishes out. But if you do need help, your buddy Nino’s always got your back!”

“Don’t I know it,” Marinette replied, bumping Nino’s side playfully. “Seriously though, thank
you.”

Their pleasant, if a bit too real, conversation was suddenly interrupted by the reappearance of
Adrien. At first, Marinette wondered if she and Nino had talked long enough to cover the length of
time it would take for Adrien to get showered and dressed. However that didn’t seem right, and the
fact that he was still in his bathrobe confirmed it.

“Is everything ok?” Marinette asked, because he certainly didn’t look ok. Adrien’s face was pale,
ashen. He held his phone in his hand. For a wild moment, Marinette thought news of her and
Adrien’s supposed ‘relationship’ had been posted online already.

She would come to wish it was so simple.

“N-no,” he stammered. “Can you guys come with me really quick?”

Sharing a look of worry between them, Nino and Marinette hurried off, following Adrien as he
hastened back to his dressing room, holding the door open for them. When they were inside, he
closed the door and locked it shut.

“What’s this about?” Nino asked.

It took a while for Adrien to reply. He paced the plush carpet of his dressing room. Marinette
couldn’t help but muse that such a pretty, glamorous room, with its assortment of fluffy white
pillows and bright dressing room lights, was a strange setting for whatever unknown drama was
occurring. She’d never seen Adrien so rattled. Not even during Springtime Exams.

“I- I can’t come out to eat today,” he said. “My mum called.”

Now, usually, Adrien talking about his mother was a thing with joy. Everyone knew that Madame
Agreste has gone missing a few years ago but, with Ladybug and Chat Noir’s help, had been safely
returned home. He spoke of her often, and with such happiness that it was contagious. So why did
Adrien sound so solemn?

Luckily, he didn’t leave them waiting too long before he stopped pacing and explained the
situation. “So something happened, and I don’t want you to panic because these things happen in
the industry ok? And I’ve had it happen to me before, but because it was sent to my parent’s house
and with all of our history, they’re kind of freaking out and-”

“Adrien,” Marinette frowned. “What”-

“I got a death threat. Sent in the mail to my parents but directed to me.”

His words were like a punch to the gut. Marinette’s skin felt white hot. She bubbled with both rage,
protective instincts, and questions. Why would someone send Adrien a death threat? What sort of
person would send him such a thing? And where were they based, so she could hunt them down
and kick their ass with all the fury her Ladybug powers would bring her?

“That’s messed up,” Nino replied simply. “What are you going to do?”

“Well, my parents want me to come back to their place for the night, as they have security and
stuff,” Adrien sighed, running his hand through his hair. He began pacing again. “They’re sending
a car for me right now, along with their own personal security guards. The police are the house
already and they want to talk to me and they’ve even sent someone to my apartment to pick up my
stuff.”

“Adrien,” Marinette approached him.

“Why couldn’t they have sent it somewhere else? Why’d they have to mess with my parents?
Hasn’t mum suffered enough?” Adrien was muttering under his breath, his eyebrows knitted into a
deep frown.

“Adrien,” Marinette repeated, reaching out to touch his arm as she’d done earlier. He stilled and
she wrapped her arms around him. When she spoke next, it was the voice of Ladybug ringing true,
although he didn’t know it. She hoped the strength and determination in her tone would be enough
to comfort him. “It’ll be ok. I promise . Nothing is going to happen to you. Or your family.”

Just like before, Adrien stiffened at her embrace. It was strange, the way he acted with her
physically, as if he wasn’t allowed to touch her. The split second of awkwardness passed, however,
and he opened himself to her, wrapping his own arms around her and resting his chin on the top of
her head. This sent a jolt of panic and guilt straight through her. Chat did that all the time.

But this was different. This wasn’t embracing a lover. It was comforting a friend.

“So how can we help?” Nino asked, clenching his fists. “Need any more hired guards?”

“I asked for cars to be sent for you guys too,” Adrien said. “If it’s ok with you guys, I’d feel a lot
better if you went straight home. Just so I knew you were safe. People know I’m friends with you,
they’ve seen us together. The last thing you need is to become a target because of me. I don’t know
what the message was, or what exactly they threatened besides…you know.”

There was a knock at the door and a low voice rumbled. “Monsieur Agreste, I’m here to pick up
your friends.”

Marinette turned back to Adrien. This didn’t feel right. She couldn’t leave him, could she? Adrien
caught her look of despair and tried to look reassuring.

“Don’t worry about me,” He said, “I still need to get changed and stuff. Besides, knowing my
parents, they’ve probably sent half the military.”

“Are you sure, man?” Nino worried, voicing Marinette’s own concerns. “I don’t like leaving you
like this.”

“I’m sure they’re over-worrying,” Adrien assured with a shrug. “I’m mainly stressed about talking
to the police. But it’ll be ok.” He wandered over to the door and unlocked it. “Let me know when
you get home. I’ll be in touch later ok?”

“Ok,” Marinette whispered. She stayed put, even as Nino began walking out the door. Leaving him
just didn’t sit well with her.

But the world didn’t care for how well this nasty turn of events sat with her. In the end, with one
last worried look at Adrien over her shoulder, she followed Nino and the security guard out to the
car.

There was nothing she could do right now. And that thought, more than anything, hurt her the
most.

The first thing Marinette did when she got home was set a google alert for any news about Adrien
Agreste. She had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to contact anyone for a while and, she thought with
a lump of fear in her throat, if something did happen, the internet was probably going to be the
quickest way to find out.

She collapsed in her desk chair, kicking her feet up onto the desk and almost knocking over her cup
of coffee as she did so. The next few hours were spent idly scrolling on her phone, refreshing the
news and social media over and over again, as well as texting Nino about how crazy the situation
was and wondering if they should tell Alya or not- would Adrien mind? He’d become close with
both Alya and Nino since joining the gaming club, but it was also clear he didn’t want this getting
out. They decided to wait until they got the go-ahead from Adrien to tell her, just in case. But, as
expected, he wasn’t responding to any messages.

This was no good. She was too distracted, her mind muddled by the meeting with that creepy fan
and the even creepier François. That, coupled with Adrien’s death threat and the apprehension of
confessing to Chat Noir later meant her nerves were more frazzled than her hair was after fighting
the Electroshock akuma a couple of years ago.

Tikki flew down from her perch, munching on a cookie. “It’s going to be okay Marinette, you
know that.”

“I feel like I’ve never known less in my entire life and that includes every biology class I’ve ever
taken!” Marinette cried, slumping further back in her seat. “I feel like I should do something to
help Adrien, but Ladybug wouldn’t know about the death threats unless news breaks. They’re
clearly trying to keep it under wraps right now. So it’d be suspicious if I just turn up at the Agreste
Manor as Ladybug, right? Ugh, I wish I cared less about that stuff, Tikki, you know? ‘Cause I
really wanna kick the ass of whoever sent Adrien a death threat.”

“You always make the right decision,” Tikki soothed, landing by her keyboard. She almost
dropped the cookie, but managed to hold on with her tiny hands, and resumed happily munching.
“Besides, I’m sure the police will investigate it thoroughly. Adrien seemed more worried about his
parent’s feelings than the actual death threats. So maybe it’s not so serious? Maybe it’s a practical
joke taken too far.”

“Even so!” Marinette said, sitting up quickly and leaning towards Tikki with a frown, “Doesn’t
that make him a reckless target? If he doesn’t care about his own wellbeing, that means he’s more
likely to do something rash.”

“But this is Adrien. Has he ever acted rash before?” Tikki questioned.

Marinette wracked her brain for a bit, wrinkling her nose as she tried to remember any time when
Adrien had acted out in any way. “You’re right. He’s protective, but he’s not foolish. Maybe I am
worrying over nothing.”

“That’s the spirit!” Tikki encouraged, before giggling sheepishly. “I mean, not the worrying over
nothing, but reasoning with yourself. I think Adrien will be fine. After everything that happened,
his parents are sure to take threats to his safety super seriously. He’ll be safe.”

The sun was setting, filling the room with a warm light, but Marinette was still cold with worry.
Was Tikki right? Would Adrien really be ok?

“You should focus on Chat coming over tonight instead! It’s the night of your confession after all,”
Tikki encouraged, interrupting her thoughts. “He’ll be here in about an hour, right?”

The sharp reminder caused Marinette to squeak and she stumbled from her chair, she ran over to
the mirror, checking her reflection. “Oh my god is that really the time?! Oh my god, oh my god, oh
my god, I’M NOT READY!”

Over the course of the next half an hour she tore her wardrobe apart trying to pick the right outfit to
confess. Something pretty but not seductive, something that would soften the blow of the lie she’d
be confessing to. She settled on a soft cotton dress that stopped mid-thigh, pale pink in colour with
a few white butterflies sewn onto the hem and over her heart. It was rather apt. She’d made it last
year to celebrate the anniversary of peace in Paris. Her green ribbons, as always, stayed put, but she
curled the ends of her hair and applied some rose-coloured eyeshadow and pink lip gloss. Then she
wiped off the lip gloss for fear of being too pink. Then she panicked about the state of her room but
decided she could deal with that a bit later.

Tikki watched all of this with an amused smile.

Once she was sure she was ready, Marinette stood in front of the mirror and began practicing the
speech she’d written down, her confession to Chat Noir.

“Chat,” she began, “No- no- that sounds too serious.” She cleared her throat. “Chat! Ugh, no that
sounds too nonchalant.” She frowned, tapping her foot on the ground. For fun, she imitated Nino
for a second, pointing finger-guns up to her mirror self and winking. “Yo dude, just wanted to tell
you that I was Ladybug, my guy. I’ve been her the whole time! Like whaaaaat?!”

Tikki giggled.
“Tikki,” Marinette whined, spinning around and slumping against the mirror. “This is so hard!”

“You’ll get it Marinette!” she cheered. “Just look inside your heart and speak from there.”

Speak from the heart. Ok. She could do that.

Turning back to the mirror, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Speak from the heart, speak
from the heart.

When she opened her eyes once more, her mirror self vanished, and she imagined Chat Noir
standing in her stead. Taking one more deep breath, she exhaled, and began her confession.

She didn’t hear her google alert go off.

“Chat,” she said, soft, gentle, thinking of the way he spoke to her on that rainy day a lifetime ago,
when he gave her the yellow friendship rose. “The time we’ve spent together these past months has
been the best time of my life. I love you, so much. Words can’t even begin to describe. But…
there’s something I need to confess. I’ve actually loved you far longer than you think. You see,
I’ve known you for many years, and I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to tell you. I hope you can
forgive me for being scared, confused, conflicted with what I should do. But I realised the other
day that I can’t keep up this lie anymore. It’s not fair to you. It doesn’t feel right. I hope you aren’t
mad at me but I’ll understand if you are. Please know that I didn’t hide who I was out of malice, or
because I wanted to trick you. I hid it because…I was afraid. Afraid to lose you, afraid of how this
would change us, of how real it would be. But I’m not afraid of it being real anymore. Because
loving you, meeting you, is the most real thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She stepped back, coming back into the present. “That’s when I’ll turn into Ladybug.”

Tikki clapped. “That was beautiful, Marinette. I’m sure his heart will melt!”

Her phone buzzed again.

“You know…” Marinette replied, threading her fingers together. “I was terrified about this, but
now I’m- I’m kind of excited. Really excited actually.” She scooped up Tikki and gave her a kiss.
“I’m going to do it!” she laughed. “I’m going to confess to Chat!”

“And then you can be together for real!” Tikki cheered. “Because I’m sure he’ll share his identity
with you too. Now that Paris has been safe for so long, I know that things will be ok!”

The pair of them giggled as Marinette span them around in an excited little dance, before she
stuttered to a halt, her eyes wide with horror. Her room was still a mess!

By the time she’d finished frantically shoving her makeup back into their proper bags and picking
up all her discarded outfits from the floor, the sky had darkened, casting the room in bluish
shadows of twilight. When she shoved the last of her skirts back onto a hanger, her eyes lingered
upwards, to the top of her closet, and her hands stalled. An idea struck her.

As she run downstairs to fetch the necessary equipment to carry out her idea, her phone went from
buzzing a few times a minute, to buzzing every few seconds. Tikki sat beside it with a frown.

Marinette hurried back into her room, grabbing an old white box from the top shelf of her closet
and the empty glass jar and hurrying over to the desk to begin her task.

“Your phone sure has been talkative!” Tikki told her.

“I’ll get it in a minute,” Marinette replied, too focused on her task to think about how late the hour
was becoming, or why her phone going off might be something of a concern. With her tongue
poked out for added seriousness, she opened the box, stopping to stare at its contents for a moment.

The yellow forever rose was as it always had been, perfectly frozen in time, exactly as beautiful
and fresh-looking as it had been the day Chat had given it to her all those year ago. The thing that
had changed most was the meaning behind it. It was symbol of their beginning, a culmination of all
the things they’d gone through together. Yellow. Friendship. Trust. Partnership.

Marinette opened her ribbon drawer, cutting a piece of ribbon and tying it delicately around the
rose. The ribbon was red. Passion. Devotion.

Love.

Settling the rose in the jar, she sat back with a smile, admiring her handiwork. Once her confession
was over, if all went well, she would show Chat the forever rose, a symbol of how much they
meant to each other. Her heart was an excited drum, her smile was shaky, but she felt good. This
was good. She tried hard not to focus on the bad outcomes, how upset Chat might be with her lies.
He wasn’t entirely guilt free after all. He was hiding his identity too.

She might learn that tonight.

All the secrets would finally be over.

They could finally be together, for real!

Her phone buzzed again.

“Oh for the love of”- Marinette huffed, snatching her phone from the desk and unlocking it.

Then she let out a screech.

LOVE AT LAST! ADRIEN AGRESTE AND MYSTERIOUS NEW GIRL SPOTTED

TOGETHER AT PHOTOSHOOT.

WHO IS THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN CAUGHT SNUGGLING WITH ADRIEN

AGRESTE?!

LOOK OF LOVE! YOU WON’T BELIEVE THESE PHOTOS OF ADRIEN WITH A

SECRET FLING!

Marinette slammed her phone back onto her desk and scooted back in her chair, recoiling in horror,
as though the thing itself was cursed.

The photos. The photos of her and Adrien were out. That creep Wayhem must have shared them
and now, like a bad virus, they’d multiplied, sent out to every nook and cranny of the internet. Her
phone was blowing up with messages from her friends at the gaming club. Nino and Alya had both
tried to call her at least 5 times.

Adrien hadn’t contacted her at all.

She wasn’t aware she was having a panic attack until Tikki flew up to her shoulder and whispered,
“Marinette, it’s ok, breathe.”

“The tophographs,” she whispered, “I mean the photographs. The photos of Adrien and I. There
everywhere. Everyone thinks we’re dating. EVERYONE CAN SEE THEM.”

She stood up, pacing the room and tugging down at her hair ribbons. “Everyone can see them. Oh
my god Tikki. What if Chat sees?! What if Chat Noir sees and thinks I’m dating Adrien Agreste?!
THERE’S PHOTO EVIDENCE!!!!”

“It’s just of you two cuddling, right? Besides, you and I both know that cuddling doesn’t mean
anything,” Tikki soothed, following Marinette’s trail of woe, circling around and around the room.
“He’s reasonable. Knowing Chat, he’ll come to you first for answers. It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

Marinette stopped. Twirling around to Tikki with wild, desperate eyes, she replied. “Are you sure?”

Tikki nodded. “I’m sure! I know how much Chat loves you. He wouldn’t abandon you over this.
He’d want answers from you.”

With her legs shaking from the massive adrenaline rush she’d just experienced, Marinette half
stumbled over towards the desk and collapsed at it once more. “You’re right,” she uttered, more to
soothe herself than anything. “You’re right, Tikki. He’ll still come tonight.”

“Exactly, and once you’ve cleared everything up you can move on with your confession and
everything will be ok,” Tikki nodded sagely, moving to Marinette’s head and readjusting her hair
ribbons. “All that’s left to do is wait for him!”

So Marinette did exactly that.

She waited.

And waited…

And waited.

But he never showed up.

It was morning, and Marinette’s neck was stiff. Her eyes were dry and her face rough. A random
thought struck her that she was grateful she’d worn waterproof mascara, as if that really mattered.

The sky outside was a picturesque, endless blanket of blue. Birds were tweeting. The yellow rose
was still sitting opposite her, the whole scene was loud and happy and obnoxiously mocking.
Marinette wanted to throw stuff at the sky to make it stop being beautiful. In the movies, whenever
things went wrong, there was always rain. Always thunder and lightning. Where was her pathetic
fallacy?! She demanded it damn it!

She slumped back in her desk chair, having fallen asleep there the night before. The blanket Tikki
must have draped across her in the night tumbled to the floor with a soft thwump . She blinked, a
heavy hollowness weighing down her chest.

Heartache was a physical pain, as though it had been ripped from the right timeline, the right
course of events, where Chat had showed up the night before and everything had gone ok.

Why? Why had it happened like this? She’d been so excited…so ready to end all the secrets. It felt
like she’d switched to an alternate reality where everything was switched around. Nothing made
sense anymore, everything was scrambled. Even her bedroom felt foreign to her, cold and lonely.
The yellow rose stared at her. For a moment she wanted to throw it away.

But she never could. Never. No matter what happened. Some promises could never be broken.

She wandered over to her circular window, staring out at the city. Where was he now? Where was
Chat? Was he somewhere out there, hating her? Feeling betrayed? Why hadn’t he come?

She wiped a wayward tear from her face. This wasn’t fair, she’d only been trying to do the right
thing after months of being wrong. But it had been too late. All of the fears she’d ignored over the
past six months, the knowledge that- if they carried on hiding their identities from each other- they
were going to get hurt, all of them were right.

She’d been too late to stop it. By her own inaction.

Her emotions snapped, switching from despair to anger as quick as a flash. So she didn’t act? Well,
what was he doing? Punishing her? Playing mind games? What the hell was he thinking? Didn’t he
trust enough to at least ask her? Who stood someone up like that? Wasn’t he meant to be a
gentleman? Asshole!

She turned away from the skyline, her brow furrowed, and she marched back towards her desk with
an annoyed scream, muffled only by her hands.

And then, as quick as the anger came, it faded.

To fear.

What if he never showed up again? What if he was done? What if he’d been having doubts and
fears himself and this was the final straw for him?

What if he never came back? How would a confession go then? Would she have to meet him as
Ladybug, reveal herself to be Marinette, and have their partnership forever dissolved?

She buried her head deeper into her hands. What a mess. What an absolute mess her life had
devolved into. Her relationship with Chat was more complicated than ever, and she was now
famous as Adrien’s not-so-secret girlfriend. People all over the internet were debating her sex life,
if she was a gold digger, if she was pregnant with his child. They probably knew her name, her age,
and they’d probably figure out where she lived soon. Her poor parents.

It was in the midst of all her deepest worries about her parents being trampled by rabid paparazzi,
that her phone rang. She groaned, having turned off most of her notifications, but she picked it up
against her better judgement. If Alya was calling her again, she was just going to explain that she
was hiding away like a coward for the day.

But it wasn’t Alya calling.

Marinette stared in shock at the number, a number that she had in case of only the direst of
emergencies, but one she never, ever thought she’d see on her screen. Ice flooded through her body
about what it could mean, for that person to have called her.

She almost dropped her phone on her way to her ear. “H-hello?”

“Good morning Marinette, it’s Emilie Agreste,” came the gentle, sweet voice of Adrien’s mother
from the other end of the phone. “I’m terribly sorry to call you first thing in the morning. First, I’d
like to say Adrien is fine for now. He’s safe with us. But I need your help.”
 Marinette sat up, clutching the edge of her chair so hard that it was in danger of snapping off. “My
help? How?”

“I’ll explain everything later,” Emilie said, “I’m not sure if my phone is being bugged . I am sorry
to be bothering you with this, I know you’re a busy Lady , but I couldn’t go to just anyone with the
kind of help I am asking for. I need someone special. Someone miraculous .”

Marinette stood up, nodding her head. “Understood. I’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you my dear,” Emilie said, sounding relieved. “As always, we don’t deserve you.”

They hung up the phone. Marinette set it to the side, and closed her eyes, forcing her pain into a
quiet corner of herself, where she could hide it whilst she did what needed to be done.

“Tikki!” she cried, “Transform me!”

Chapter End Notes

I hope you enjoyed! If you did please comment! Eden and I love hearing your thoughts
about the chapter. What was your favourite part? ;D

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follow Eden on Instagram!
 The Bodyguard Arc Part ll
Chapter Notes

Hello folks! Sorry it's been a later than usual update- the main reason was because I
was working on finishing my novel! And I did!!!! I finished it a few weeks ago!!!!
Also this chapter is super long and a lot of editing and work went into it. We hope you
enjoy it!

- Midnight Xx

See the end of the chapter for more notes

2 Years Ago

For years, Chat Noir’s house had been just that. A house.

Not a home, but a cold, dark place, vacant of any life or love.

He’d always thought it was the absence of his mother that had caused such an emotional black hole
where love had once been. This was only part of the reason however. Finally he understood why ,
in all its terrible truth.

Chat Noir stood in the hallway, glaring at the man in front of him...the source of all his anger, his
rage, his pain. The reason he was a superhero to begin with, why he was so lonely, why he’d spent
his whole life isolated and socially awkward.

His father.

Hawkmoth.

It was difficult to fathom the depths of betrayal Chat felt, how physically sick he was over the
revelation. How what should have been the final battle had turned to a whole new set of horrors as
Ladybug and Chat Noir had faced down Hawkmoth head-on for the first time, to take his
miraculous away…

Only to see the eyes of his father reflected back at him the second Hawkmoth’s power was stripped
away.

So. Hawkmoth was his father. His mother was still alive and being held prisoner by a deranged,
disgraced former hero, who wanted their the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous’ for himself.

It was almost laughable, how adapted Chat had become to feeling like a chess piece most of his
life. A pawn for his father to move about however he saw fit. But this was another level. Chat Noir,
being Chat Noir, had been freedom. The kind of freedom he’d never even dared dream of before.

But it was tainted now. Tainted by yet another one of his father’s schemes for power. Only instead
of business power, it was power of a much more sinister kind.
Could he trust anyone anymore?

Had Fu known he was pitting father against son?

And what would Ladybug think? Her own partner, the son of their mortal enemy.

Somewhere knotted deep inside him, underneath all the layer of rage and hurt, was fear. Fear for
his mother. Fear of Ladybug finding out about him. The guilt. The shame…

She could never know. God. She could NEVER know.

Collecting himself before he had a full on mental breakdown, he pulled his shoulders back and
marched over to Hawkmoth until he was almost nose to him.

“You know, Ladybug and I disagree on a few things. She thinks you could help us take down
Puppetmaster. I on the other hand think we should throw you straight into prison like the vile snake
you are. However I can’t deny that you know more about all of this than we do. Even so-”

He grabbed Hawkmoth by the collar, fingernails digging in, and lifted him up just enough for it to
be uncomfortable. The blank expression Hawkmoth wore only served to anger him further. How
many times has his father, the man standing before him, looked at him that way as he dismissed
every emotional need Adrien had ever had?

He hated him. He hated him so, so much.

“- If you so much as go within a meter of Ladybug, if you look at her wrong, if I get even a slight
indication that you change your mind in helping us in this ill-advised team-up, no Miraculous Cure
will ever save you from what I will do to you. That is a promise.”

Hawkmoth arched an eyebrow at him. “I will bear that in mind,” he replied flatly. “But rest
assured, all that matters to me is getting my wife back. No matter what the consequences.”

Even if it costs you your son whilst you’re at it, Chat had to stop himself from saying.

He released Hawkmoth from his grip, pushing him away with a growl.

“You disgust me,” he spat.

Chat Noir turned his back on his father and mortal enemy, storming out of the front doors and out
towards the gates, where Ladybug was waiting for him.

Present Day

Ladybug stood at the gates to the Agreste manor, nostalgia washing all over her.

She hadn’t been there in years, but the times she had… the memories were so strong, so emotional,
they were etched into her brain with permanent ink. She couldn’t remove them if she tried, nor did
she want to.

It was here where the final battle had begun after all.

Ladybug shook her head, trying to rattle the memories back into a treasure chest in the corner of
her brain. At least for now. She needed to focus on the present- on more pressing matters.
Glancing around nervously, she was relieved that her previous inspection was correct. No reporters
were hanging around. She heaved a relieved sigh. They’d been absolutely obsessed with Adrien
Agreste’s “secret flame.” Most of them had camped out at Adrien’s apartment, unaware that he was
no longer there. Nino had texted her earlier mentioning something about Nathaniel and his
boyfriend stealing paparazzi cameras and running away with them when they showed up at the
campus looking for both of them.

She tried not to laugh at the image, having not been in the mood to find it funny earlier.

Then, predictably, the reason why she’d not been in the mood crept up in her mind. Looking
around again, she wondered if Chat would be here too, if Emilie had asked for his help also.

She wasn’t ready to see him, too hurt and confused. The wound was too fresh.

What would she even say? Could she carry on with her confession, knowing how tainted it was
with unnecessary drama and pain?

Much like her previous memories, she forced the fears of Chat Noir’s abandonment away for the
time being. This was too important to be distracted. No matter how she was feeling inside, she had
a job to do.

So she lifted her chin, marched forwards, and pressed the intercom to the manor.

“Who is it?” a curt, static voice buzzed out of the speaker as a camera popped out of the side of one
of the walls, pointed directly at her fact.

Was it possible for security cameras to glare? Because this one seemed to be doing exactly that.

“Oh, umm, yes, hello!” Ladybug stumbled through a greeting, put off by the large, red eye of the
camera and the abrasive tone of the static voice. “I’m here to see Emilie Agreste?”

“Uh-huh, sure you are kiddo,” the static voice sighed, moving from an aggressive manner to a
more dismissive and patronising one. Ladybug bristled. “Listen I don’t know what you weirdo
reporters are up to this time, but you’re not getting past these gates.”

“Excuse me,” a voice piped up from behind her, “But is that ugly little security camera broken? Do
you not know who you’re talking to?”

When Ladybug turned around, she came face-to-face with a beautiful blonde. At first, Marinette
wondered if she was a model friend of Adrien’s, as she was dressed head-to-toe in designer clothes.
Dior trousers, a Gucci top from the spring line-up, and the latest Marc Jacobs bag every socialite
was going crazy for. She raised her Chanel sunglasses to rest them on top of her soft, golden hair
and shot the security camera a scathing glare. On first look, it might have been easy to confuse her
for some ultra glamorous angel.

But angels didn’t look like they’d step on you with their Manolo Blahnik’s if you made them wait
more than 3 minutes for the Cosmo they ordered.

“M-Miss Bourgeois!” the security person stammered.

“I’ll handle this,” the girl, who Ladybug now recognised as Chloe Bourgeois- the socialite with the
famous fashion designer mother, declared. She crossed her arms across her chest. “I’m here to see
my dearest Adrien, and are you telling me that you don’t recognise the other Lady whom you’re
speaking to?”
“I’m sorry Miss Bourgeois,” the security person replied. “I’m not supposed to let anyone in today.”

“Excuse me,” she replied acidly, “It’s bad enough that you’re even daring to think of denying me,
Adrien’s oldest friend, from visiting him. But to actually insinuate that you are going to turn the
hero of Paris away?! Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! Give me your managers number right this
instant! Good luck ever finding work again.”

It was at that point the gates began to open. Ladybug gawked as the security guard continued to
stammer out apologies and pleas for Miss Bourgeois to not get him fired.

Chloe ignored him. Flipping her long, softly waved hair over her shoulder she linked arms with
Ladybug and said, “Come on, let’s go.”

They wandered down the pathway leading to the entrance of the manor, Ladybug still reeling from
the show of verbal dissection she’d just witnessed. She supposed, entering the fashion industry, she
ought to get used to it.

“I am so, so, sorry about that,” Chloe apologised, her voice dripping in honey. “I cannot believe the
nerve of some people! To even think about not worshipping the ground you walk on instantly.
Disgusting. You’re our hero.”

Ladybug blushed. “I really don’t want people to worship the ground I walk on.”

Chloe stopped. Spinning around so she was now facing Ladybug, her back to the steps of the
manor, she fixed her with an incredulous stare. “Why ever not?! You’re a hero! People should
worship you. If I was a hero, I’d let everyone know about it.”

Ladybug found herself rather glad that Chloe wasn’t, in fact, a hero. She was about to say
something inspiring and typically-Tikki-ish (“a hero’s work is its own reward Marinette!” “Just
saving the day is good enough Marinette!”) which she also agreed with, but was caught off guard
by Chloe’s arm slinking around her shoulders.
“Anyways, you simply have to take a selfie with me. Two Queens meeting like this? The internet
will break. They can’t handle all this beauty,” she winked, then chuckled, and Ladybug was having
a tough time figuring out if Chloe was being serious or not. Before she had a chance to really
analyse it, however, Chloe was already pulling out her phone. “Plus it’ll really stick it to Winifred,
bitch thinks she can go to Monte Carlo without me knowing it. This’ll show her what she’s missing
out on.”

“Who- who is Winifred?” Ladybug blinked, as Chloe took a snap.

“My ex-girlfriend. Total cow, utter loser, can’t stand her,” she explained, checking the selfie she’d
just taken and nodding in approval. Ladybug had never met anyone in costume, in or out, who was
happy with the first selfie take. This girl was terrifying. “OH EM GEE. I just thought of the best
idea!” her eyes seemed to sparkle, somehow innocently and evilly, a perfect complement to the soft
smokey eyeshadow coupled with eyeliner wings sharp enough to kill a man. “We should totally
pretend to be dating. That would really piss off Winifred, the stupid sow.”

Ladybug stepped out from under Chloe’s arm and began backing up the stairs, waving her hands.
“As much as I’d- err- love to stick it to your ex-girlfriend, I can’t talk about my loved ones in
public. They could become a target for villains and I could never live with myself if you got hurt.”

That was the official reason, which was only the half-truth. The main reason was Ladybug had had
enough accidental fake relationships to last a lifetime, even if that particular fake relationship was
less than a day old.

At first, Ladybug was worried Chloe would throw a strop at her akin to the one she’d given the
security guard previously. There was a brief flash of something in her eyes, but it was too quick for
Ladybug to focus on. She then sighed, looking more vulnerable than she had so far. “See? This is
why you’re meant to be the hero of Paris,” Chloe looked up at her with admiration. She tucked a
strand of her behind her ear and Ladybug found this Chloe a lot more likeable. She wondered if all
of the posturing and huffiness was just a mask. “You think of things like that instantly. Most of us
would have to be taught. It comes naturally to you.”

Ladybug couldn’t help it. She blushed again.

“But can I at least keep the selfie? Like I said, Winifred would die ,” Chloe added, all traces of that
vulnerability gone.

Ladybug chuckled. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to delete that for now, as I’m here on secret
business,” she tapped her nose. “But I tell you what, you show me proof you’re deleting our selfie
now and I’ll take 5 with you once what I’m here for clears up. And that’s a Ladybug promise.”

Chloe squeaked, actually squeaked, and threw her arms around her before scrambling to show
Ladybug the photo. She watched at it was deleted, and heaved a sigh of relief. No more
incriminating photos being leaked for the time being. Thank goodness. “Yay! Ok look- look see?
Deleting it! Ooooh I can’t wait, I’m going to make it the best mini photoshoot you’ll see! We can
even wear matching outfits. I could get a new suit to match yours, which I love by the way. So
much better than the pyjama-type thing you wore when you were first starting out!”

Whilst Ladybug was contemplating exactly what she’d gotten herself in for, the door opened and a
nervous servant popped out. “Were you waiting to see Madame Agreste?”

Chloe looked at her with a raised eyebrow. If Ladybug didn’t know any better, she’d say Chloe
was worried. “You’re seeing Emilie? Why? Is there something wrong with her? The creep who
took her isn’t back is he?”

“No,” Ladybug replied as they walked inside, insides flaring with anger at the mere mention of that
person. “No, he won’t ever be bothering this family again.”

The cavernous entrance hall was almost exactly as she remembered it, but something was different.
It wasn’t the artwork, that had mostly stayed the same aside from the family portrait hanging
above the stairs. No, it wasn’t anything tangible. It was a feeling. The Agreste Manor had felt so
cold, so empty and lifeless the last time she’d been there. It was the opposite now, as though the
presence of Emile Agreste had brought all of the good things, all of the life, back into the house. In
her return, she had transformed it into a home once more.

And she was currently standing at the top of the staircase, looking straight at Ladybug.
It never failed to amaze her, how graceful and elegant Emilie Agreste was. Wearing a softly
flowing summer dress, adorned with her husband’s jewellery, she glided down the stairs with a soft
smile, fingers gently brushing against the bannister.

Until, at least, she reached the bottom of the stairs and hastened over to Ladybug with open arms.
Gently pulling her into a motherly embrace, she whispered, “Oh I’m so glad you came,” and
Ladybug couldn’t help but pick up on the relief and slight fear in her voice.

Once she pulled away, she noticed Chloe and brightened, “Chloe darling, what brings you here?”

“I’m here to see your son,” Chloe replied, waving her phone up and down, “he hasn’t been
responding to my messages, which is unlike him. So, I thought I’d grace him with my presence
seeing as he’s definitely not at his apartment. Have you seen the vultures clinging around outside
his building? Ridiculous!”
Emilie nodded. “Of course,” she replied gesturing upstairs. “He’s in his room. Be warned, dear,
he’s in a rather… delicate mood these days.”

Chloe scoffed, already halfway up the stairs, “When is he ever not?” she clicked her tongue before
waving back to Ladybug. “Ciao, ciao, Ladybug! I won’t forget those selfies!”

“I wouldn’t expect you to!” Ladybug called back with a wave.

Then Emilie and Ladybug were left alone.

Emilie guided Ladybug towards the dining area, closing the door behind her. “We won’t be
disturbed in here. Please,” she said and gestured to one of the chairs. There were about fourteen of
them. Ladybug wasn’t sure which one to pick. Once again, she wondered if the Agreste’s had any
normal sized room, any place in the house that wasn’t equipped to hold a crazy important business
dinner or a fancy charity gala.

She settled into the chair closest to her, at the edge of the table, and Emile came to sit
perpendicular to her, at the head of the table. She then took her hand, holding it the way a some
might do to a sick relative. “How are you, Marinette?”

Ladybug blinked, not used to people calling her by her civilian name whilst she was suited up. It
took her a quick second to realise what Emilie was referring to, and her free hand instantly went to
her side. “Oh, I’m fine.”

“Your wound hasn’t been bothering you, has it?” she asked, squeezing her hand tighter.

“No not at all,” Ladybug replied, “the healing sessions with Master Fu really helped. You can
hardly see the scar anymore. It kind of looks like a birthmark. It hasn’t hurt in years. Promise!”

Emilie nodded and the tiny crease in her brow faded. She placed her fingers on her neck, so similar
to Adrien’s mannerism that Ladybug was almost blown away by it. “I must confess, I do feel awful
about having to ask for your help, especially after everything you’ve done for my family. But I felt
as though Gabriel and I had nobody else we could trust and whom we could contact so
immediately. I do hope you’ll understand?”

Ladybug nodded. She understood Emilie’s concern, and would have reacted exactly the same in
her situation. The whole reason Ladybug was here in the first place, was Gabriel Agreste’s
reaction to his wife being held to ransom.

Many years before Ladybug and Chat Noir, another band of heroes existed, saving the day not only
in Paris, but the whole of Europe. Gabriel and Emilie were part of that group, the wielders of the
bee and the peacock respectively. Everything was well, and a long era of peace reigned in Paris,
enough that most of the heroes decided to retire. They returned their miraculous, and led normal
lives. Gabriel and Emilie got married and had a child. All was well…

Or so they thought.

You see, one wielder, a teammate by the name of Isaiah Slade, hadn’t enjoyed giving up his
miraculous. He wanted it back. In fact, he wanted them all and was determined to do anything in
his power to get them.

It was three days after Adrien’s fifth birthday when Emilie and Gabriel discovered one of their
teammates and his wife had been murdered in cold blood, found dead in their apartment, their
whole place ransacked. The police chalked it up to a robbery gone wrong. But the remaining
heroes worried that something far more sinister was going on.
They decided that day, to ensure that Adrien was always protected, to give him the finest home
schooling their rapidly growing money could buy. At that point, they didn’t know what enemy
might have been wreaking revenge. They didn’t know it was a former friend. A friend who had
attended Adrien’s aforementioned birthday party, had brought him a teddy bear and given him
piggy back rides.

Years went on and it would be both Emilie and Gabriel’s biggest regret, to not realise how far
Isaiah had fallen. They rarely saw him, and one by one, their friends vanished. This didn’t concern
them, for the murder of their teammate had had them all rattled one way or another. This was an
oversight they would also come to regret. But there was still peace in Paris, and nothing bad had
happened.

Until one day, four years ago, when Isaiah turned up at the Agreste Manor. His black hair was
matted like a stray dog and his eyes were wild. He twitched when spoken to. Nobody else was
home.

Except Emilie.

He begged her to help him find Master Fu, so they could take all of the miraculous from him,
trying to tempt her with seeing Duusuu, her beloved kwami, once more. Seeing how unhinged he’d
become, she outright refused, tried to get him the help he sorely needed. But this was not the
answer Isaiah was hoping for and so, in one last desperate attempt to win power, he picked up a
vase and cracked it over Emilie’s head. Piling her into her own car, he snuck out of the secure
manor, the blood from her would staining the back seat.

Later that day, Adrien returned to an empty house, shards of vase, and his mothers blood splattered
on the floor.

This was how Gabriel Agreste became Hawkmoth. In his desperate search for his wife, Isaiah (who
had renamed himself “The Puppetmaster”) sent Gabriel cryptic messages, threatening his wife’s
safety unless he got him all of the Miraculous. He revealed that he had been the one to kill their
former teammates, as they had borrowed their miraculous to take care of a recent flood. He had the
fox miraculous, and so he could hide anywhere and Gabriel would never know.

In retaliation, Gabriel spent all his time and effort tracking down the famous lost Miraculous, the
butterfly miraculous, and sought the power of his own in order to find Isaiah and get his wife back.

This all came to a head two years previously. They had reluctantly settled on a brief truce with him
in order to save Emilie Agreste and put a stop the Puppetmaster’s evil plans of accruing all the
miraculous.

That was when Ladybug, having rescued Emilie and severely depleted of energy, was hunt down
and shot by Isaiah as she hid away, de-transforming. Tikki had had to push herself to her absolute
limit in order to transform Marinette once more and protect her identity. They both spent months
recovering after what Paris came to know as the day of Hawkmoth’s defeat.

So Marinette could understand why threatening letters, in particular, would make Gabriel and
Emilie worry so much.

“So what kind of help do you need Ma’am?” Ladybug asked.

“ADRIKINS!”
Adrien flopped up from his sofa with an unholy screech and sent Plagg, who had been snoozing on
his chest, flying halfway across the room. Plagg let out a hiss before rubbing his eyes. “What the-
?”

Chloe strode into the room, placing her hand on her hip. “Are you just now getting up? Has it
finally happened? Are you going through your Ibiza phase?”

Adrien rubbed his eyes, trying to get a bearing on what happened and why Chloe was suddenly in
his room. Also why was he in his room?! Why wasn’t he back at his apart-

Oh. The death threats. Yeah.

“I’m not going through an Ibiza phase, Chlo’,” Adrien mumbled, referring to the notorious party
island and Chloe’s brief stint as a wild party girl. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet. His body
felt twice as heavy, burdened with tiredness and stress. “You handled that enough for the both of
us.”

Chloe chuckled, before walking to his desk chair and crossing her legs. “You’re correct there, but
those days are far, far behind me,” she waved her hand out before checking her nails, heaving a
faux sigh. “And now I wake up early, traipsing all across Paris to find out the wellbeing of my dear
childhood friend.”

“Is Winifred not in town then?” Adrien grinned, teasing.

Chloe spluttered, completely taken out of her saintly act, “I beg your pardon, but I would come and
check on you even if she was here. Which she isn’t, clearly.”

“Are you two fighting again?” Adrien frowned. “Seriously Chloe, your relationship with that girl
isn’t healthy.”

“Oh. I see. Hmm. Interesting,” Chloe replied checking her fingernails once more, only this time in a
way which suggested Adrien was about to be scalped by them. “The thing is, I know whatever I
have with Winifred isn’t healthy. It’s toxic and dramatic AF, but I love it like that. I’m not ready to
settle into an actual relationship, so it’s exciting. I don’t go around pretending our relationship is
healthy. And nor do I sleep with a lovely girl for six months as my alter ego, and then claim to be
dating her as my civilian self.”

Adrien gulped. God, why hadn’t he locked his bedroom door when he was younger? If he had
Chloe would never have walked in on him mid-transformation and he would never have to have
been held accountable for his actions. Damn it.

“So perhaps you might refrain from judgements on my love life, hmm, Monsieur Noir?”

At this point, Plagg flew towards Chloe cackling. “Ha! She told you, did she?”

He landed on Chloe’s lap and, as was usual whenever the two of them got together, Adrien ended
up feeling outnumbered. But in a fun way. Except this time the subject matter wasn’t amusing in
the slightest. Adrien groaned and slumped onto the edge of the sofa, facing Chloe and Plagg. “I
messed up so bad.”

“Oh really?” Chloe replied dryly, “I hadn’t noticed,” she leaned back with a stretched grin. “So tell
me all about it.”

“You could look less pleased about it,” Adrien admonished.

“But you always told me lying was wrong,” Chloe shot right back. “And I did warn you that
sleeping with this Marinette person as your superhero self, even though you know her as a civilian,
was going to come back to bite you. I am fully entitled to be pleased that I am- once again- right
about everything.”

“I just wanted this rude jerk I work with to stop harassing her, that’s all!” Adrien huffed. “I didn’t
mean for all of this to happen! Now everyone thinks we’re secretly dating and I couldn’t even see
her last night and the stupid police took my phone so I can’t even talk to her as me!”

“Well… I mean they aren’t wrong I suppose,” Plagg replied. “You are secretly dating. Except not
in the way everyone thinks.”

Adrien stared out the window, worrying at his lip and ignoring Chloe’s protest that he was going to
make them chapped if he carried on. “I’m worried. About her. If she’s ok, if she’s overwhelmed by
reporters looking for stories? The most Nathalie was able to find out was that the bakery is closed
today. But I haven’t heard anything about her . What if she hates me now because of all of this?
Ugh! I can’t believe the police took my phone. Why didn’t I memorise her number? Then I
could’ve used to old landline…”

“All I can say is, I hope you’ve been very good to her in the boudoir,” Chloe added. “Else she’ll be
furious when she finds out the truth. I know that I’m more willing to forgive someone if they’re
masterful in that sense. Why do you think I still allow Winifred in my life after the champagne
bucket fiasco? But then, I’m a lady and I won’t divulge my secrets.”

Adrien looked around his old bedroom, lamenting that he hadn’t changed it much since his teenage
years. It could have really done with having a whiskey bar.

“But in all seriousness,” Chloe sighed, the teasing faded from her countenance and she sat forward.
Plagg moved to sit on her shoulder instead. “Adrien, you aren’t like me. You’ve never been like me
when it comes to relationships. Where I actually enjoy being young and dramatic and free for now,
you’ve always wanted to tie your heart to someone and make a life with them. You’ve always been
about- ugh- family. So, what are you doing playing pretend when you could have this girl for real?”

“I’ve tried talking to him about this tons of times, and he just won’t have it!” Plagg cried, shooting
an accusing paw in Adrien’s direction. “He’s convinced she’ll never speak to him again if he says
the truth.”

“Well it’s true! I’ve lied to her for so long, and any time I’ve tried to tell the truth, something has
gotten in the way or I’ve ended up losing my nerve,” Adrien lamented. He stood up, running his
hand through his hair. “I’m in way too deep. I feel like- I don’t know- she’s my oxygen. With her, I
feel so… free. I can breathe, but I also can’t think around her. I lose all reason. It’s dumb and stupid
but I’m hooked on it- the feeling of being loved by someone. It’s selfish, but I love loving her, and
more than just physically ”- he added, cutting off Chloe as she opened her mouth- “I love being
with her, laughing with her, talking about my day and hearing about her. I love her little laugh and
her hair ribbons, and I love the way she plays with those ribbons when she’s nervous. The idea of
confessing my lie, the risk of losing that, it’s overwhelming.”

“But it’s only a fraction of what you could have, if you let go of those fears,” Chloe pointed out.
“Honestly, you should stop being a coward and go for it. Stop dwelling on all the ways it could go
wrong and dive in head first. If it works, well that’s wonderful, and you’ll get your little house with
the children and marriage- all those awful things. If it doesn’t work? Well, it wasn’t meant to be,
and you’ll learn your lesson and grow from it. You think I got with Selena by acting shy?! No. If
you want love, you need to be bold about it.”
“Pop stars aside, I’m not as resilient as you, Chloe. It’s not a fling to me. I really love her, you
know?” Adrien sighed, leaning forwards and staring at the floor. “The idea of Marinette hating
me? I can’t take it.”

“Well then you shouldn’t have lied in the first place? Or fallen in love? I don’t know what you
want, ugh! You’re being too mopey,” Chloe folded her arms. “Plagg, he’s being too mopey.”

“Stop being mopey, kid,” Plagg said, with all the dullness of a 90’s skater boy.

“I’m not being mopey,” Adrien replied, marching over to the desk where Chloe was sitting and
taking a swig of a bottle of water.

“You are so,” Chloe argued, leaning back with a raised eyebrow. “And nor are you looking at the
bigger picture. Think about this. If it doesn’t work out with Marinette, you could date Ladybug
instead.”

Adrien spat out his water, spraying it all over Chloe, who fled from the chair and shrieked “Adrien!
This is GUCCI.”

“You want me to WHAT?!” Adrien spluttered, heat rising to his face. “I don’t have- Ladybug she’s
just a fri- I can’t date- I’m in love with Marinette .”

Plagg and Chloe shared a look, which simultaneously made Adrien both baffled and infuriated. It
appeared as though they were both in on something and weren’t willing to divulge anything to him
to him, regarding his own feelings.
Ok. Now he was moping.

“Well, you’re right I suppose,” Chloe replied, a fond look crossing her features which made Adrien
smile. Her soft spot (pun intended) for Ladybug always made him chuckle. “After all, she’s farrrr
out of your league. I mean, have you seen her recently?! She’s gorgeous and so brave and
wonderful- oh by the way she’s downstairs- and so noble too! She even agreed to take selfies with
me! Can you imagine how jealous Winifred will be?

The smile crashed off of his face. “Wait. What?”

“I said she agreed to take selfies with me,” Chloe repeated, only louder and slower. Then she
scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Plagg it’s like he doesn’t even listen to me.”

“You don’t need to tell me!” Plagg rolled his eyes. “In one ear and out the other.”

Adrien would have stopped to defend himself, but he was already halfway out the door. Ladybug
was here? Ladybug?! Here?! In his house???
The last time she’d been here had been a very different story.

He raced down the hallway, footsteps echoing all around him- a reflection of the questions
bouncing around his head. Why was she here? Had something happened? Was his mum ok?

When he got to the top of the stairs, he skidded to a halt, hand gripping the rail. For a moment his
heart stopped at the sight below them.

The police were there, along with Ladybug. His parents were nowhere to be found. Flashes of
memories- a drop of blood- a shard of glass- filled his mind and he felt him slip out of the present,
if only for a second. All at once he was sinking, falling into a dark abyss of pain.

And then Ladybug turned around. Their eyes met, and she smiled. Suddenly, the sinking abyss was
gone. The feeling of drowning was gone. He could breathe again. Because if she was smiling at
him, things were ok. If she was smiling, he was ok.

He could breathe.

She whispered something to the police, who nodded and left out the front door. They were alone.
Adrien was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, all but floating down the stairs. “Ladybug?” he
heard a voice, soft and stuttering, and then realised it was his.

He stopped a couple of feet in front of her. Perhaps it was the scattered shards of light, shining
across her, or the way she still smiled, but she’d never looked lovelier to him.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he said back. “Ladybug, is everything ok? Not that I don’t appreciate you coming to visit of
course, but err, why are you here exactly?”

Ladybug blinked, tilting her head at him. A look of realisation crossed her features, that he wasn’t
in whatever loop she was, and she giggled nervously. “Oh, umm, you see? Your mum called me
about you. According to the police, you’ve had some death threats? So she asked me to help the
investigation and- err- kind of act like your bodyguard.”

What.

The outright horror must have shown on his face, as Ladybug hastened to add. “Oh don’t worry! I
know getting death threats must be distressing. But I’m on the case. And so are the police! We’ll
catch the creep who threatened you in no time.”

He was about to open his mouth and say that no, no that wasn’t what he was worried about in the
slightest. But he was interrupted by the arrival of his parents.

“Oh. Adrien, I see you’ve already met the young lady,” Gabriel declared.

There was a tense moment hanging in the air, like a lightning bolt ready to strike at any moment. A
culmination of the shared, yet not completely shared, history. It was a while before Adrien realised
that he’d stepped closer towards Ladybug, almost shielding her from their former enemy.

Gabriel Agreste had spent his years after being Paris’ number one villain trying to atone for his
actions. It was years before his relationship with Adrien began to recover and, even now, it was
still on shaky ground. Before the final battle, Ladybug and Chat Noir had struck a deal with
Gabriel. He would choose a successor, train them up, have them take over the company and retire,
quietly turning himself into the police. His assets would be frozen, but the only suffering that
would come from it would be his own and not the lives and livelihoods of countless innocent
people should he turn himself in immediately.

It was the worst fight Ladybug and Chat Noir ever had. She couldn’t understand why he was so
angry and he was annoyed that she wasn’t agreeing with him and being so frustratingly rational.
They both went into the final battle with frazzled minds, unfocused and out of sync.

And then he’d almost lost her.

His mother came to him and kissed his cheek. “Are you alright, darling? I know this is upsetting
for you, but I hope you’ll indulge me on this.”

It was impossible for Adrien to be furious with his mother, even if he tried. But he was baffled. “Is
this really necessary though? I’m not a child.” He twisted around to face Ladybug. “Not that I don’t
want you here or anything. I only mean that this might be an inconvenience to you.”

Ladybug grinned again, tapping her nose. “Ah! But Monsieur Agreste! If it was an inconvenience
to help people in their hour of need, I wouldn’t be a good superhero now, would I?”

Ok, that was cute. Why did she have to be so cute? Why couldn’t he ever say no to her?! They’d
always been like this. It seemed as though his inability to deny her anything extended to his civilian
self also.

He was a weak, weak man.

Tilting his head away, he exhaled and gave a half shrug. “If you’re sure. I mean, I think it’s fine.
The death threat is probably a joke.”

“Threats of any kind aren’t jokes that people should be making!” Ladybug lectured, shaking her
head. “And if they think it’s funny, then they ought to learn that they aren’t one way or another.
Honestly, I hope it is a prank and this blows over quickly for you. But don’t worry! If there is
someone out there who wants to hurt you, I can help.”

Adrien smiled at her encouragement. He had no doubt that she would kick the ass of anyone who
tried to hurt him when he was detransformed. However, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted over
this. It felt wrong. After all, he was Chat Noir and could handle himself. Both of his parents knew
his identity. So all of this didn’t feel particularly like it was needed. On the other hand, he could
argue that if someone tried to act on the death threat in broad daylight, it would be difficult to
transform into Chat Noir without having to answer a lot of questions- possibly risking exposing his
identity in that regard. Judging from the nervous look on his mother’s face all yesterday evening,
she’d been worried about the same.

Maybe it would be good to have Ladybug around for a while after all. Besides, if it made his
mother less worried about him, that was fine. As long as he didn’t have to give up his freedom for
too long.

Holding out his hand to Ladybug, he offered her a polite nod. “Pleasure to be working with you
Littl- Ladybug,” he corrected himself quickly. “Ladybug. Pleasure to be working with you,
Ladybug .”

Ah. Maybe this new deal was going to be trickier than he anticipated.

“Adrien, darling, why don’t you offer our guest some brunch? I’m sure chef is cooking something
as we speak,” Emilie said.
“Oh no, I don’t want to impose,” Ladybug replied waving her hand frantically. As if she could ever
impose.

Gabriel said nothing, content to nod once to Ladybug and once only. Ladybug blinked back in a
silent conversation, before nodding back to him. It was the only interaction they had so far, and
Adrien intended to keep it that way.

Narrowing his eyes a fraction, he took Ladybug’s hand without thinking. “If you like cheese,
you’re in for a treat,” he said, leading Ladybug to the kitchens.

As Ladybug and Adrien left the entrance hall, Gabriel chuckled a little under his breath. “They’re
still oblivious to their affections I see.”

“Well to be fair, neither of them has recognised each other yet,” Emile replied with a grin. “Maybe
this time together will help?”

“Good grief wife, your matchmaking abilities are borderline occult,” Gabriel straightened his tie
with a cough.

Emilie turned, straightening his tie for him. “Well, husband , I do my best.”

“Could we not simply tell them?” Gabriel asked, a frown lining his forehead. Emilie reached up to
smooth the lines there with her thumb.

“I think we’ve meddled in their affairs enough already. We can give them a nudge, but it means
less if they don’t work it out together,” she replied just as the police came to approach them once
more.

Adrien had been in many surreal situations in his life.

This was perhaps, one of the most surreal.

Here he was, stuck on one side of the kitchen counter, pouring a drink out for his superhero
partner. His superhero partner, who happened not to be aware that she was in fact exactly that
because he was a civilian and honestly, he was getting a headache.

“Thank you,” Ladybug said as he handed her a glass of freshly pressed apple juice. She hadn’t
wanted anything stronger, so Adrien felt like he should have apple juice too.

“No problem,” he replied and sat in the bar stool opposite her.

Silence.

Oh god, why was this so awkward? It’s not like he didn’t feel comfortable with Ladybug, of course
he did. But a part of him was so worried he’d slip up and start talking to her as if he were currently
his alter-ego (hey it had almost happened once) that he was almost too afraid to say anything in the
slightest. Perhaps Ladybug was picking up on his trepidation, and giving him the space he needed
to quietly process his emotions, despite the fact she was unaware of what he was actually going on
in his head.

Little did he know, on the other side of the counter, Ladybug was sipping her apple juice and
internally screaming. You know. Like adults did.
Why did I turn down alcohol again? Oh right, because technically I’m on a job. Tikki would kill me
if I got drunk as Ladybug again.

It was hard to concentrate when Adrien’s eyes were pretty much staring straight through her, to the
point where she was glad he didn’t have any superpowers. Like x-ray vision or heat vision or
something. He would have burned a hole straight through her brain. If she’d been lucky enough to
remember hers today, that is.

Was she acting strange too? This was the guy she’d spoken to just yesterday, the one who everyone
in Paris thought she was dating. The one Chat Noir probably thought she was dating.

Should she be resentful of the fact that his initial lie got them into that mess in the first place?
Maybe, but she didn’t feel that way. All she knew was, if he kept staring her like that, she was
pretty sure she was going to combust.

Sipping her juice nervously, Ladybug wondered what to say and found herself coming up with
nothing but bland discussions about the weather. Aside from all the drama with him as a civilian,
there was a history with Adrien as Ladybug too. It was small but it was there. After all, she’d
helped save his mother and keep his father out of prison for the time being.

She wondered if he knew. About Hawkmoth being his father.

“This juice.” Adrien said. She lifted her head up, to find him staring at it intently. “It’s…great.”

Ladybug couldn’t help it. She snorted. Ok, so maybe he was finding this as strange as her, albeit
for different reasons. It’s not everyday a superhero sat in your kitchen after all.

“Yeah,” her voice wobbled in response, trying to suppress her laugher. “It’s very apple-tising.”

Adrien coughed up the juice he was sipping on. The second time in under an hour he’d failed to
keep a drink from spurting out of his mouth. His eyes widened in embarrassment when he noticed
that he’d sprayed Ladybug with the apple juice.

Unlike Chloe, however, she didn’t yell. Instead, Ladybug wiped some of the spittle-juice from her
arms and said, teasingly, “I asked for the news not the weather.”

There was a brief pause.

Then they both burst out laughing. Just like that, all of the strange tension in the air faded away.
The chef came over with a lovely, healthy cooked lunch and they tucked in, both falling into a
silence that was far more comfortable than the cricket-inducing one before.

“So,” Ladybug broached, after finishing her eggs. “Death threats huh? What did you do to warrant
such ire?”

Adrien sighed, offering a half shrug. “I already told the police that I think it’s no big deal. I’m
doing my PHD you see, so I have to complete teaching hours.”

“Wow, so you’re like a model teacher, in every sense of the word,” Ladybug nodded approvingly,
offering him a little wink. Then she pulled back, remembering that Adrien didn’t know Ladybug,
he knew Marinette. That level of familiarity wasn’t appropriate at this time.

Meanwhile Adrien was finding it very difficult to manage his cutlery all of a sudden. Why were his
fingers sweaty?!

“I guess so,” he chuckled nervously, “But I think it’s probably a disgruntled student I gave a bad
mark to or something. I’ve had abuse thrown at me on twitter and stuff from random haters in the
past, I really don’t think it’s something to worry about.”
“Yes, but it’s a bit different when someone is going out of their way to send you physical death
threats,” Ladybug argued. “Especially when they’re escalating the situation to involve your
parents. My theory is that this person knows your parents would react badly to this, and there’s a
possibility that this situation could become newsworthy as a result. So, we can ascertain that
whoever is doing this wants attention. And people who want to call attention to their acts are
usually the most dangerous. You shouldn’t take this lightly.”

Adrien exhaled shakily, feeling something rather like anxiety bubbling in his gut. “Did you just tell
me off?”

“A little bit,” Ladybug replied, cutting into a piece of smoked salmon with all of the grace of a
queen chiding her knight. “And for good reasons.”

“They are good reasons,” Adrien nodded, feeling a surge of pride and awe at just how smart she
was. Far smarter than he could ever be. It never failed to amaze him. “And I don’t mind being told
off by you. It’s actually pretty refreshing. I feel like nobody’s told me off in a long time.”

Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. Nobody had told off Adrien in a long time. Marinette told Chat
off frequently and he loved it.

“I try to do it more often then,” Ladybug pressed her hand against her heart, letting go of her
cutlery so she could raise her other hand in the air. “I solemnly swear, Adrien Agreste, that as long
as I’m your bodyguard, I will continue to nag you senseless.”

“I’ve never felt more honoured or protected in my whole life,” Adrien’s lips trembled as he
pretended to act just as serious as she was pretending to act. He did mean it though. As always, he
felt so protected around her.

For years, his feelings had been disregarded, treated like they weren’t worth thinking about at best
and an inconvenience and embarrassment at the worst.

It was never like that with her. With her, his feelings were always safe.

Their conversation went on, touching a little more on the death threats and possible suspects who
the police were now questioning. However, it wasn’t long before the conversation devolved into
sillier topics. Adrien found himself lucky that his schedule had been cleared and his phone had
been confiscated. They talked for hours, laughing, teasing making jokes. How easy it was.

How…magical.

As soon as the thought came to his mind, he shut it up quickly. The reason it was so easy, and why
it felt so right, was simple. It was because he’d known her far longer than she knew. That’s all it
was.

Despite the pleasantness of the conversation, eventually they had to both meet up with the police to
get caught up on the situation. Soon he found his thoughts drifting somewhere else entirely. To a
bakery near the river, and the balcony a few stories above it with its little potted plants and fairy
lights, to the small opening that led to a room filled with floral scents, fabric strewn furniture, and
a girl with eyes that brought warmth to his heart.

He was worried.

Because of his rashness, Marinette was wrapped up in a faux scandal of a fake relationship with
him. All of Paris and beyond probably knew about them by now.
 He wanted to see her so badly. He wanted to shed the shackles of his fear and show her that it was
ok, that he understood the mess they’d gotten into because he helped create it. He wanted to tell her
who he really was.

He wanted it to be real. Just as Chloe had said. The idea that he might not get to sneak out and see
her until this was all over was driving him utterly crazy. It was like an itch under his skin, an
insatiable desire to see her, to hold her and cherish her and let her know that it was all going to be
ok, that he was there and that Chat Noir hadn’t randomly disappeared on her for no reason.

No.

He wasn’t going to allow it. He wasn’t going to abandon her to the press wolves. She was his love
and he was going to protect her.

He was going to find a way back to her.

Even if it killed him to do it.

Chapter End Notes

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 The Bodyguard Arc Part lll
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It was the evening of the third day of Adrien’s confinement. The sun had set below the Parisian
skyline long before, Adrien’s mood darkening along with the sky itself.

No communication with the outside world. No Superhero-ing. No leaving the house at all.

No Marinette.

“Will you please stop all that?!” Plagg snapped at him over a plate of various cheeses that had
mysteriously appeared outside the room a while back. The kwami suspected who’d left it, but even
he knew not to bring it up now.

Adrien stopped his pacing, brows furrowed. “Stop what?”

“All of that,” Plagg scowled back, looking at him up and down, waggling his one free hand,
“brooding.”

In an instant, Adrien went from confused annoyance to downright affront, “I am not brooding.”

“You’re brooding more one of those awful 19th century gentlemen. The kind that used to think
hugging their dead girlfriend’s corpses was romantic.”

“Ew!” Adrien wrinkled his nose, “Couldn’t you have said I was brooding more than Batman or
something?”

“That would imply you were as cool as Batman,” Plagg smirked around a slice of brie.

Adrien was about to tell Plagg exactly what he could do with that brie when he was interrupted by
an incredibly loud knock at the window behind him. Swivelling on his heels, his eyes widened at
the sight of Ladybug, hanging by her trusty yo-yo, on the other side of the glass.

He hardly had time to ignore the way his heart leapt in his chest (what the hell?) before she was
lifting up a little wicker picnic basket and pointing to it. She was saying something but Adrien
couldn’t quite hear her.

Approaching the window, he raised his voice “HI! THE WINDOWS ARE THICK! I CAN’T
HEAR YOU”

“WHAT?” Ladybug was gesturing, and Adrien was pretty sure she was saying, “The windows!
Open up!”

“I CAN’T!” Adrien yelled back, knocking on the glass. “BULLETPROOF GLASS. YOU NEED
A CODE TO OPEN IT”

“WHAT?!”

“BULLET-PROOF. GLASS!” He yelled slowly, waving his arms around his head, to all four
corners of the wall-sized windows. “CAN’T GET IN! YOU’LL HAVE TO GO AROUND THE
FRONT!”
“I can’t hearrrrr you!” Ladybug was yelling, curving her arm horizontally, “I’LL GO AROUND
THE FRONT!”

“Good grief it’s like watching two sea slugs try communicating,” Plagg grumbled from his new
hiding spot.

Ladybug disappeared around the side of the building. As soon as she was gone Adrien looked
down at himself, horrified to realise he was in his pyjamas and it wasn’t even midnight yet! God
she’d probably think he was so lame.

Running to his bathroom, he checked out his reflection, his hair, his teeth. Halfway through this
frantic check-over he wondered what the hell he was doing. This was Ladybug . She was his friend
. More than that right now, she was the person assigned to protect his civilian self- for all she knew
they had a strictly professional relationship.

So why was he acting like some teenage boy desperate to impress his crush?

Squashing that thought flatter than fizzy drink left out in the summer sun, Adrien shook his head
and stomped defiantly away from his reflection, as if daring himself to be less presentable to- well-
anyone.

He actually couldn’t remember anyone ever seeing him so un-put-together. Marinette got pretty
close when she’d run into him the night after their first time (not that she’d known it of course).

Once again, Adrien tried to ignore the pang in his chest when he thought of Marinette and how
much he longed to be free of these stupid threats, how much he was worried about her and all their
romantic controversy and how she was handling it all without him…

At least Nino had been cleared to call him earlier that day, and promised him that Marinette was a
little stressed but otherwise fine, cheering him up with stories of Marinette’s mother shooing a
reporter from their shop. But it was a plaster on a gaping wound.

A knock (on the door this time) and Adrien all but sprinted to let Ladybug into his room.

Holding up the picnic basket she’d shown him before she chuckled, “Sorry about all that! I was
saying I bought you some baked goods. You’ve seemed so- you know- the past few days have been
rough.”

A wave of fondness washed over Adrien as he gestured for her to sit on the plush white sofa,
sitting next to her as she held out the basket to him. He took it, glancing at the cookies with a
smile. “Are you suggesting I eat my feelings?”

Ladybug beamed. “Sure am!”

“You know I am a model,” Adrien teased, hoping to fluster her.

But Ladybug remained unflustered. Crossing her legs as Adrien placed the cookies on the table in
front of them she sighed. “Yeah, yeah I know you’re a model. Speaking of which, is your dad still
insisting you do that big fashion show tomorrow night?”

Adrien’s mood darkened once again. “Yeah,” he huffed, “Apparently it’s the one thing I’m
allowed to go outside for. There’s going to be armoured cars and stuff, and security checking
people as they come in. Plus you’ll be there, so I’m not worried. But I’m just so”- he groaned,
scratching his hair- “it’s just so typical. My life can come to a halt but heaven forbid I miss a
fashion show.”
“Do you really hate it that much?” Ladybug asked sadly.

He sat up waving his arms with a sheepish chuckle. “No, I don’t hate it,” he said and it was the
truth. “I just wish that there could be a little leeway with things I care about, rather than things only
my parents care about.”

“Like what?”

Adrien chose to say nothing in response. Instead he went for the cookies. His eyebrows shot up
when Ladybug’s arm flew out to stop him. “You know, as your bodyguard, I guess I better take
these back if it’s going to hurt your career, considering you have the big fashion show tomorrow
night. More for me!”

“No, no, no,” Adrien hurried, diving past her arms and wrapping his hands around the basket like a
mother might around her new born baby. “ My cookies.”

“But you said you’re a model,” Ladybug smirked. “These are bad for you.”

“Bad for the body, good for the soul,” Adrien argued, pulling them out of her reach. Ladybug
pouted, kneeling on the sofa and making a swipe for them.

“Ugh! Stop being so tall! Give me!”

“Come and get them,” Adrien laughed, tilting his head back to where he’d held the basket out of
her reach. Ladybug’s arm made a grab for them again and he pulled his arm back further. He was
so focused on the task at hand that he’d failed to notice the warm weight settling between his
knees.

“ Adrien -”

“Lit- Ladybug ”

“You know I could just use my yo-yo on you or something,” she grumbled, huffing as she made
another attempt the reach the cookies.

“Didn’t know you were that kinky,” Adrien let slip before he could help himself, forgetting
AGAIN that he wasn’t meant to be familiar enough with her to make those sorts of jokes. His
whole body flooded with ice as heat burst onto his cheeks. “I mean err…” his eyes darted back to
her, frantically gauging her reaction.

And that’s when he noticed how they’d both ended up.

Ladybug hadn’t quite caught on yet. “Oh yeah,” she scoffed, “like you’d ever find out”- her words
died as her eyes met his, as she joined Adrien in the realisation of how they’d ended up.

Both of them froze.

She was in his lap. Their chests were pressed together, their noses almost brushing. She was so
close, he could see the deep blush spreading from underneath her mask, to the tips of her ears.
Adrien had one hand against her shoulder, a hand that had previously been trying to push her away.
It curled around her now, subtle, as if the hand was willing to stay, as though it knew something
that he didn’t.

The movement shocked them both out of their stupors, and Ladybug scrambled off his lap, Adrien
brought the cookies back, sitting upright, the pair mumbling apologies as they pointedly refused to
look at each other.

Ladybug was mortified . Honestly, what was the matter with her? She hadn’t been kissed by her
strangely missing boyfriend in days and was suddenly taking all her pent-up heartbreak and layers
of muddled frustration and longing onto Adrien instead?

No that wasn’t it. They were just messing around. She hadn’t meant to get so close to him. She
really had been focused on the cookies.

Her shoulder tingled. She ignored it.

“Sorry,” she sighed another apology. “I’m acting super unprofessional. I just”- she pouted,
crossing her legs and resting her elbow on her raised leg, her chin on her hand- “I just wanted to
cheer you up. I’m not very good at it. I feel like I always make things awkward…with everyone.”

There was a brief moment of silence, one which didn’t seem as awkward as she’d previously
believed, but she couldn’t be sure. She stared at the windows, feeling sad about them. She’d of
course known about the mansion’s security system, had been briefed about the need for certain
codes to open windows or doors. But she’d assumed Adrien had known the codes. The fact that he
didn’t made this large room, stuffed with relics from his childhood, seem less like a home and
more like a prison.

The need to cheer him up intensified.

There was a gentle nudge against her arm. The picnic basket.

Ladybug glanced up at the shy look on Adrien’s face, the last remnants of the blush still painted
across his features. “I don’t think you’re awkward,” he admitted. “I like talking to you. I like how
normal you’ve made this super weird situation.”

He held the cookie basket out to her further.

“These were for you,” she protested lamely.

“Yeah I know,” he nodded, then smiled. “But no point enjoying them unless you’re sharing them
with a friend, right?”

Ladybug beamed at him. “Right,” she agreed, grabbing a cookie. Adrien grabbed another and they
clunked the cookies together in a toast to their new-but-old friendship.

They ate their friendship cookies in companionable silence and Ladybug turned to him. “So how
are you holding up with all this?”

Adrien thought about it around his last mouthful of cookie. “Honestly? I’m still not worried about
these death threats. I’m more worried about my mother. She’s so stressed about the whole thing.
It’s the main reason I haven’t snuck off yet. Well that and the fact that my father’s turned this place
into more of a bunker than a home.”

“It is… a lot,” Ladybug wrinkled her nose. “And anyways you shouldn’t try sneaking off. The
death threats are still coming and suspects are still being called forward.”

“I know, I know,” Adrien sighed, running a hand through his hair. A few cookie crumbs fell into
the loose strands. Only then did Ladybug take in his dishevelled state, the dark circles around his
eyes. The urge to find the bastard making Adrien’s life so hard intensified. “I’ve got other worries
too; about people I’ve left out there, while I’m stuck in here.”
Ladybug decided to stay quiet, urging him to continue with her silence. Even as Marinette,
Ladybug always felt he’d held things back from people. There was always something he left
unsaid.

“There’s this girl. You’ve probably seen it all over the news. It’s someone you know actually.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s a- a- really good friend of mine. We pretended to be a couple to get
this creep off her back,” his expression darkened in a way Ladybug hadn’t seen before and it
caused her stomach to flip of its own accord. “But now everyone thinks we’re actually a couple
and she’s out there having people tweet about her and reporters snooping around her parents'
bakery. I can’t ask if she’s ok or anything and it’s driving me insane.”

“I’m sure she’ll be ok,” she reassured him, feeling warmth spread through her chest about how
much he worried. Here he was, getting death threats, and yet he was worried about her wellbeing?
It was so incredibly sweet.

Her soothing words didn’t quite reach him, however, as he stood up and paced towards the
window, frowning at the skyline as though if he fretted enough the buildings might part and he
could see her and check if she was ok. In that moment she felt helpless, because the only way she
could fully reassure him was the one way she absolutely couldn’t.

“I know, and Nino told me the same when I asked him but- I don’t know- I feel like my heart
won’t rest until I see her for myself, until I see her with my own eyes,” he groaned, pressing his
forehead against the glass.

Adrien knew he had to sound pathetic. He could already sense Plagg from his hiding spot, waiting
to relentlessly tease him. Yet, as pathetic as it seemed, it was the truth.

Oh how he longed for her…

The second- the very moment he saw her again he was going to tell her everything. He’d lay out all
the cards like he ought to have since the very beginning. He’d known this since after his
conversation with Chloe, known that he couldn’t hold it off any longer. But fate, instead of his own
cowardice, was driving them apart right now and he hated it so much. It was tearing at his insides.

A warm hand pressed against his arm. Ladybug was smiling at him, reassurance and…sadness? He
couldn’t quite read it. The emotions didn’t quite fit. It didn’t seem like she was pitying either.

“I’ll get you out of this as soon as I can, I promise,” she vowed, “then you can see her yourself and
know she’s ok.”

Adrien let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and smiled back sincerely. He could
always rely on Ladybug, always, even if she didn’t know it was him.

Guilt twisted in his gut- the guilt of knowing he would reveal himself to Marinette but not to
Ladybug. Their silent agreement to carry on with their alter-egos was there, yes, and so he wasn’t
lying to her. But something didn’t feel right about hiding his relationship from Ladybug.

“Thank you,” he replied. Two words, two words loaded with so much more than he could really
say. Thank you for being by my side. Thank you for helping me when I don’t deserve it. Thank you
for being my best friend. Thank you for being you.

Ladybug offered him another cookie, munching on one of her own. Adrien stared, stared at the girl
he cherished with every fibre of his being, another girl he was concealing many truths from. He
wouldn’t have been able to say what compelled him to do it, other than the fact that he was sick of
lies and secrets, but suddenly he was blurting out, “I’m in love with her.”

Ladybug’s contented smile dropped like a stone. She choked on her cookie.

Adrien dropped his own cookie as he hurried around her back, patting her between the shoulders.
Ladybug stopped choking shortly after, rasping out a, “What?!” with wide eyes, eyes which Adrien
could only describe as horrified.

He winced, unable to look at her, unable to stop the truths. “I’m in love with Marinette,” he
reaffirmed, “I guess that’s why I’ve been so worried you know? Everyone thinks I’m being an idiot
but I feel like I can’t just sit here while the girl I love is out there, suffering because of my jerky,
jealous decisions. It’s not her fault, it’s all mine, and now I can’t even get to her, to check if she’s
ok, to be honest with her about- about- everything . She deserves the truth.”

“The truth?” Ladybug whispered, a rough sound which had Adrien nearly wincing again. He really
wasn’t coming off well, was he?

“Even if it ruins our rel- our friendship. I should have respected her feelings from the start, been
honest with her,” he admitted, even as his mind screamed at him to stop talking , stop talking now
before you make it worse, before you say things you can’t take back.
Ladybug was silent for a long, long time. As the silence grew, so too did Adrien’s fear. But still he
couldn’t look at her.

“I’m…going to check up on her for you,” Ladybug stammered.

Adrien snapped his head up, hardly daring to believe his ears. “You will?”

Ladybug was staring at the ground, her eyes wide and glassy. “Y-Yeah. I’m going to go. Right
now. I need to leave. Right now. Right, right, right now. Better the sooner right? Right. I’m saying
right a lot, right?”

“Right! You’re the best!” Adrien beamed and before he knew it, he scooped Ladybug up into his
arms and gave her a huge hug. Ladybug squeaked and he put her back down with a quick apology.
“S-sorry but honestly it makes me feel better you checking in on her than other people! You’re
amazing. Best bodyguard ever!”

Ladybug laughed but it came out more as another squeak. Aww , he thought, she was always so shy
with compliments. He smiled at her fondly.

“Ha! Amazing- cause you’re in love with- yeah and I’m. I’m just, I’m gonna goooo, yeah? I’m
gonna gooooo… bye!”
She ran from the room, tripping over the sofa and walking into the doorframe on her way out.
Adrien barely had enough time to say goodbye before the door slammed shut behind her.

“SPOTS OFF. SPOTS OFF!”

Marinette de-transformed mid-air, collapsing onto her bed in a heap, face down into her pillows.

Her chest felt like it was caught in a bear trap that tightened with every breath she tried to make. It
hurt, it hurt, it hurt .

Her head. Her heart. Her lungs. All of it burned .

“He loves me,” she whispered, turning around and staring at the ceiling. The words tasted like
creation and destruction on her tongue, like life and death. There was something to this truth that
she couldn’t quite comprehend, it was too deep, too confusing, too fathomless. It was the cold light
of day and the warm blanket of darkness. It was so much, too much, and she couldn't handle it. She
couldn’t breathe from it. “Adrien loves me.”

“Marinette calm down, please,” Tikki implored, flying towards her shoulder and resting on it. The
same shoulder that Adrien had clutched earlier when she was- when they were.

Marinette put her face into her hands and screamed.

How long? How long had he loved her and she’d had no clue? How many times had she touched
him, hugged him, kissed his cheeks, and he’d been in love with her?

She kicked her legs out, arms outstretched as she laid on her bed, swearing under her breath. God.
She’d even pretended to be in a relationship with him to get that creepy model away from her.

But it had been his idea, and it had felt so right and now she knew why. Because he actually did
love her and he’d been showing her his love and she- she still couldn’t breathe.

Her traitorous heart flooded with warmth, as the initial panic subsided and the weight of Adrien’s
love settled into her system. A quiet overcame her.

Adrien had no powers, but did everything he could to look after her. To make sure she was okay.
Loving her from a distance, respecting her boundaries from a distance but always there to support
her, even as she’d been unable to reciprocate his feelings.

Meanwhile her supposed superhero lover was still nowhere to be found.

“Tikki…I am an awful human being,” she grabbed a pillow, hugging it to her chest as tears burned
her eyes.

“No, no you aren’t Marinette,” she soothed, nuzzling against her shoulder further. “Love is
complicated. It’s especially complicated when you’re young and a superhero. Many Ladybugs
before you have had heart troubles. You aren’t the first and you certainly won’t be the last. But it
turns out okay in the end…usually.”

Marinette tried to feel comforted by Tikki’s words, she really did. But Adrien’s confession rattled
around her brain for hours, long after her kwami had fallen into a peaceful rest.

Trying not to disturb Tikki’s slumber, Marinette clambered out of the trap door and went to the
edge of the balcony. It was a warm night but she felt cold, and the ghostly memories of past nights
clouded her mind, haunted her.

Adrien’s eyes, Adrien’s laughter, Adrien defending her from creeps, Adrien complimenting her
when she dared to show him her designs, Adrien always being there for her, Adrien wanting to be
honest with her, Adrien, Adrien, Adrien…

She leaned her elbows against the balcony railing, head bent and fingers digging into her scalp as if
she could scoop out of these intrusive thoughts. She groaned. As always, her thoughts came back to
Chat Noir, not hearing from him for days, the rumours of her and Adrien’s relationship, the ever-
increasing worry.

Where was he? Why was he leaving her to all these doubts and worries, all these- these- thoughts?

Where was he?

Where was he?

Eventually she went to bed, so distracted that she didn’t even remember to charge her phone. It ran
out of battery around 5am, black screen catching the first few rays of dawn, nothing but a useless
brick.

“Here,” the detective thrust his phone into Adrien’s hands, “it came back clean from the lab last
night.”

Adrien blinked down at the device, a wave of relief washing over him. He put his morning cup of
coffee down and stared undid the zip-lock bag his phone had come back in. “So… I can use it, no
problems?”

“Knock yourself out kiddo,” the detective replied with a gruff shrug, stomping out of the room
muttering about kids these days and their obsession with their phones. Adrien didn’t pay him much
mind; he’d seen the same detective playing Kwazee Cupcakes on his own phone the previous day.
And he knew better than to ask about the case. Apparently, even though he was the target, he
wasn’t allowed to know who was being called in until a formal arrest had been made. As it stood,
they were still just interviewing people and following leads.

He sighed in relief, resting in his desk chair and turning on his phone. Ladybug hadn’t been to visit
him yet, but he didn’t doubt she’d kept her word and checked in on Marinette, or would before she
came to check in with him as well as the police.

Still, now he had his phone back he could check on her himself. It took a while to load,
bombarding with messages and notifications as it was, but he eventually managed to clear
everything away.

Except a text message, from a random unsaved number. Adrien frowned. He never really got texts
anymore, except from his mother and father. All of his other friends used messenger apps.

Curious, he opened the message.

His body flooded with ice cold fear.

You think you can hide from me you coward, but I know where your girlfriend lives…
 And I’ll get her too.

Chapter End Notes

As always thanks for being patient with us! We do get a lot of questions/asks around
updates. Specifically around the question "are you going to continue?"

Please be aware that, unless we make an official statement, both Eden and I will see
WDDM til the end. We know our updates take a while but trust us that we'll never
abandon the story. So you don't have to worry/ask us if it's been discontinued!

I hope you enjoy this chapter! The next one is already written and the art is in the
planning stages, so the wait should be a little shorter this time around. Thanks!

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 Bodyguard Part IV
Chapter Notes

Happy Easter!!!! We hope you enjoy this chapter and that you're keeping safe in this
difficult time!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Adrien’s phone dropped to the floor, the protective case keeping it from breaking into a million
pieces. It did little to stop himself shattering.

There’s a type of fear that only arises when your loved ones are in danger. It was that kind of
ripping, tearing, violent anguish that dug its rotten fingernails into the core of Adrien, into his
heart, into everything he was. It was hopelessness and guilt and crushing despair and action,
action, action. I must ACT.

He stumbled backwards, gripping his desk chair for support, his knuckles turning ghostly white.

“Plagg,” he choked, “Plagg, claws”-

-“Woah hold on there kiddo, what do you think you’re doing?” Plagg flew out of his hiding place,
slamming himself against Adrien’s mouth to silence him, “You want some security guard to hear
you? Or a camera to catch you leaving your room as Chat? Think!”

Adrien was trembling, unable to think, unable to process anything. Except for the fact that
Marinette was in danger. In danger. Marinette was in danger and it was all his fault. His petty
jealousy. His lies. And now she was under threat and he was stuck in here and he needed to get out,
needed to make sure she was ok.
 “Marinette,” he rasped, reaching down to his phone. He held up the message so Plagg could read
it. “Plagg, I- I have to…” his words trailed off into nothing as another wave of panic seized his
throat.

Now he was taking this seriously. It didn’t matter to him if someone came for him. He had powers.
He could defend himself.

Images flooded his mind of Marinette walking back to the bakery alone, suddenly set on by a
darkened figure, hurt before she even had the chance to defend herself…

“Plagg,” he choked out again and it was a plea, a desperate plea for help, to stop those horrible
images from turning into reality. He ran frantic hands backwards through his hair, “What can I do?
I’ve got to get out of here! Can’t you destroy all the security stuff?”

“Sure, I could, but I’d need time to recharge,” Plagg replied without his usual teasing. The fact that
he was taking this seriously only served to make Adrien’s fear grow. “I don’t think we have much
of that though.”

Adrien growled, throwing his hands up in the air. “Well I’m going, one way or another.”

With that, he stormed towards the door and was about to wrench it open when Plagg flew in front
of him, paws up. “Come on, do you really think they’ll let you wander out into the street like
nothing?” he argued fairly. “There’s a whole police investigation and you’re the target, kid. Think
about it for a sec.”

Adrien wanted to disagree but, as loathe as he was to admit it, Plagg was probably right. “There has
to be a way out.”

Inexplicably, Plagg grinned. There was a twinkle in his eye that suggested nothing but mischief.
“Well,” he said, elongating the word, “I could cause a little mayhem. Enough for you to be able to
sneak out!”

Adrien beamed at his Kwami companion of so many years. Sure, most of the time they spent trying
to annoy each other as much as humanly possible, but he could always rely on him and times like
this proved it.

As soon as Plagg noticed the grateful look on Adrien’s face, his own smile disappeared. “Ok
enough already,” he rolled his eyes. “You humans and your emotions.”

“How will I know when it’s all clear for me to sneak out?” Adrien interrupted, his words coming
out rushed and breathless.

The smirk was back. “Oh trust me, kid,” he chuckled wickedly. “You’ll know.”

And know, Adrien did.

On a normal day, he’d be curious as to how Plagg had been able to summon so many cats so
quickly (the word “swarm” came to mind). But it wasn’t an ordinary day and he had more
important things to worry about. One important thing.

Sneaking out of his room and heading in the opposite direction to the shrieking bodyguards and
caterwauling cats, Adrien was relieved to find that the kitchens were clear, except for one tabby cat
cleaning itself on the large island. He patted is as he hurried past and it chirped in response.

The kitchen had a back door which led to where the bins were kept and collected. With the
pandemonium inside the manor, that exit was the most likely to be clear.

Heart pounding, and with the ever-increasing fear he’d be caught, Adrien opened the back door and
broke out into a run. He noticed the back gate was locked…

But the bins were still there, propped up against the iron gates.

He ran harder and, using as much momentum as possible, leapt onto the top of the bins vaulted
over the top of the gates.

The problem with being in his civilian form became violently apparent and he landed awkwardly,
crashing to the ground and his left foot slipped out from under him. Adrien felt a sharp tugging
sensation in the tendons of his ankle and cried out in pain, but he couldn’t stop. Scrambling to his
feet, he almost collapsed again when his ankle gave out.

Hopefully Plagg caught up with him soon so he could transform.

His eyes widened at the sound out yelling outside the manor and he cursed under his breath. Had
they already discovered he was missing?

Hobbling as fast as he could, he rounded a corner and hid in the shadows of a nearby alleyway. He
silently prayed for Plagg.

Adrien crouched down, feeling his injury and hissing when he touched the most painful part.
Closing his eyes, he slumped back against the dirty brick wall. If Plagg didn’t show up in the next
minute, he was going to move on without him. Transformation be damned. He had to get to her,
had to know she was safe.

That was his biggest mistake.

Adrien couldn’t see the figure coming towards him, looming out of the shadows, until it was too
late.

Before he knew what was happening, something big and heavy slammed against his skull. Adrien
had no time to think, no time to react.

No time to defend himself.

All he knew was a sharp, intense pain in his head, exploding behind his eyes.

And then- darkness.

The box of pastries Ladybug had been holding clattered to the floor, its contents spilling out around
her feet.

It wasn’t the sight of the police cars outside the Agreste manor that made her stomach drop. That
had been a normal sight these past days. No. It was the sheer volume of them, the flashing lights,
the overwhelming sense of panic flooding the scene which made her realise-

-Something was very, very wrong.

Anxiety coiled in her chest like a snake ready to strike as she hurried through the gates and up the
path towards the front doors of the manor. Grabbing the first officer she saw, she demanded to
know what happened.

The officer, a younger man looking way in over his head, sighed with relief at her presence. But
still the worry remained in his eyes and that did nothing to soothe her worries. “Oh Ladybug, thank
god you’re here. It’s Adrien-”

The doors opened with a groan and Ladybug glanced up as Emilie Agreste stepped out. Their eyes
met, and the look on Emilie’s face shattered Ladybug’s heart into a million pieces, the shards
turning to glass which cut her from the inside out because she knew. She just knew.

Before Emilie said anything- she knew what had happened.

“Adrien’s gone.”

Emilie hurried down the steps, gripping both of Ladybug’s hands and the officer made himself
scarce. Up close, Ladybug could see the unguarded anguish on her face, the ghost of tears which
had tumbled down the graceful lady’s cheeks. To see her this way was almost unbearable, and
Ladybug almost had to cast her gaze away from the sight. “He’s been taken,” Emilie continues.
“I’m sure of it. He wouldn’t have left. Not without saying anything to me.”

Ladybug wanted to deny it, wanted to tell Emilie it was ok, that Adrien had probably snuck out for
a bit of a breather. But deep down she knew Adrien would never cause his mother such worry. Not
after all they’d been through.

A panting behind Ladybug startled them both and Ladybug swivelled around coming face-to-face
with Adrien’s fanboy- the one who was at the photoshoot. She couldn’t quite remember his name,
though.

“I saw it!” he cried, wildly. “I saw someone taking Adrien!”

“Wayhem?” Emilie frowned, answering Ladybug’s question, then hurried forwards when she
realised what he’d said. “What happened? What did you see?”

Wayhem’s eyes were wider than usual, which was saying something. He looked like a bug who’d
just seen a spider ensnare his best friend. “I saw a man with brown hair pulling Adrien into a shiny
car. Adrien was unconscious.”

Emilie’s hands flew to her mouth. Worried what this must be doing for her, Ladybug stepped in,
placing a hand on Wayhem’s shoulder with a firm grip.

“What about the make of the car? Could you tell?”

Wayhem shook his head, “I couldn’t tell the make- but I took photos. Here, see?”

He held out his phone, which Ladybug took. It was a little hard to tell from the photo, but the car
was shiny, sleek and expensive looking. That only confused Ladybug further. She’d expected a van
of some kind, not a sports car.

“You can take it with you, I don’t mind,” Wayhem said gently. “I just want Adrien to be safe.”

Warmth bloomed in Ladybug’s chest at that, and she was able to forgive Wayhem for his online
posts outing hers and Adrien fake relationship. She even felt sorry for suspecting him of sending
the threats, a suspicion which had led her nowhere anyway. “Thank you Wayhem, you really are
Adrien’s number one fan.”

Wayhem beamed at her, even though he was still worried. A few police officers led Wayhem away
to question him further, leaving Emilie and Ladybug alone.

A moment of silence passed. Ladybug could almost taste the anguish in the air. It tasted like cold
ash, like the long-dead embers of a warm fire.

“I’ll get him back,” she vowed.

But Emilie didn’t seem to hear her, her eyes were glassy and far away. “It happened again,” she
whispered, fragile and broken. “My family, we’ve been broken apart again.”

“No!” Ladybug’s cry split the air, breaking Emilie out of her mournful daydreams and the latter
blinked slowly. With tears of her own threatening to spill over, Ladybug placed her hands on
Emilie’s shoulders. “It hasn’t. I will get him back ok? I will get him back.”

This was her fault. If only she’d helped a bit more with the investigation instead of focusing on
Adrien’s welfare, if only she’d gotten here sooner, if, if, if, so many ifs. So many regrets.

Emilie, it seemed, had some of her own. “If only I still had Duusu,” she lamented. “I would help
you in an instant.”

Ladybug offered a watery smile. “And be a total badass too, like how you killed Isiah in the end- I
mean in self-defence and all but still! I’d be out of a job if you came back into the game.”

“It was defence of you too, my dear. I thought he’d killed you,” Emilie uttered, tucking a stray
strand of hair behind Ladybug’s ear. The action reminded her so vividly of Chat Noir for a moment
that it almost gave her whiplash, completely taking her out of the moment as she wondered, with
ever-increasing fury, where on earth he was and why he wasn’t here helping her deal with
something so important. Emilie brushed the tears away from Ladybug’s face, interrupting her
darkening thoughts. “Please do be safe dear, I couldn’t live with myself if you were so hurt again
for our sakes.”

Ladybug nodded grimly, trying to ignore the sudden flashbacks that struck like lightning through
her mind; the gunshot, the pain, the blood. Her blood. She fought back an involuntary shudder. “I
will be,” she replied. “I promise.”

Emilie smiled, worry still creasing her brow but determined nonetheless. “Good,” she nodded,
soothed by Ladybug’s oath. “Then bring back our boy.”

The first thing Adrien noticed was the smell. Coming to consciousness with a throbbing head, the
feeling of damp crept into his senses. It was so potent he could taste it on his tongue, along with
traces of iron. Blood. His blood.

Looked like those death threats were legitimate after all, he thought mildly, trying to inhale as
much as he could. It would help with the pain. But that only made the damp smell cling to the back
of his throat. His stomach rolled.

The stiff back of whatever chair he was on was doing nothing for his posture. It clearly wasn’t
ergonomic.

Slowly opening his eyes, he tried to get a good view of his surroundings and try to figure a way
out. He clicked his tongue, then winced. Nope. Not doing that again.

“A warehouse,” he grunted. “How original.”

“Oh you’re awake,” a voice startled him and he blinked, adjusting to the light and the figure hiding
away from it. The warehouse was empty, derelict. Most likely it was on the outskirts of the city,
downriver judging by the smell. Shards of afternoon light shone through the narrow windows at
the top of the building. How long had he been out? “I was starting to think you’d never wake up
again.”

His captor didn’t seem even remotely concerned about that notion. Adrien wished he hadn’t been
whacked on the head. It made it difficult to think. All he knew was that he had to keep his captor
talking as long as possible, until Plagg or Ladybug found him. It occurred to him, in a vague sort of
way, that he ought to have been worried for his own safety, but there was really no doubt in his
mind that either or both would prevail in getting to him.

“So I guess that last threat was a trap?” he said, keeping his tone as flat as possible. “To lure me
out of hiding?”

Condescending amusement dripped from his captor’s lips, “Yes, and you fell for it my friend.
Hook, line and sinker.”
“I suppose,” Adrien shrugged, and found the movement scuppered before he had the chance to
complete it. His hands were bound to the chair. Of course. He was a bit slow on the uptake due to
the giant throbbing wound on the side of his head. He squinted, trying to see if he could recognise
the figure half hidden in the shadows. The voice seemed so familiar, in an aggravating sort of way.
“At least you’re not after Marinette.”

“You can relax. I’m not actually trying to kill you, or your foolish, blind girlfriend. I simply need
you to be gone for the evening.”

Adrien frowned, torn between confusion, relief that Marinette would be safe and anger at the insult
towards her. Still, he needed to keep him talking. “Why would you need me gone for the evening?
And Marinette isn’t foolish or blind- I don’t know who you think you are.”

“Big talk from the guy tied to a chair,” came a sneering response. “And she is a fool. Choosing you
over myself.”

And that’s when it clicked. At first, Adrien couldn’t believe it. Because no, surely not, there was no
way. It was just so stupid.

“Oh my god,” he uttered, bewildered. “Derek?!”

“My name is not Derek!” Derek yelled, stomping out of the shadows and confirming Adrien’s
suspicions. Derek’s suit was rumpled, creased with the effort it must have taken him to drag
Adrien’s limp body off. His surgically enhanced lips curled up in anger. “It’s François!”

Adrien didn’t know whether to laugh or scream in frustration. When he next spoke, he did so
slowly. As if he was trying to get a concussed sloth to understand the concept of a neutron star.
“Derek,” he sighed because really, first this guy shows up on set ordering everyone to refer to him
as his stage name only, harassing female staff, hitting on Marinette, and now this?! “Did you
kidnap me so that I would miss the fashion show?!”

“Well your idiot father left me no choice,” Derek replied as if it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing
Adrien had ever heard. “He has no concern for your safety. I thought all I would need to do would
be to send you some death threats and throw your family into a panic. Then poof!”- he made an
explosion gesture with his hand- “no more Adrien being the star of the show. I would finally get
the top billing spot I deserve, which would lead me on to a great many things.”

Derek sulked, pacing up and down the dirty stone floor, “I only needed you out of the way for a
little bit,” he sighed wistfully, “and your father couldn’t give me that even when his own son’s life
is on the line.”

“Yeah he’s a peach,” Adrien retorted, somehow agreeing with the guy who’d kidnapped him for
attention. Still, on the other hand, he was glad his hands were bound. If they weren’t, the resulting
facepalm he’d give himself might’ve actually resulted in a coma.

All he could hope was that Ladybug or Plagg would get here as soon as possible. This whole
situation was such a waste of time, time he could have been spending with his girlfriend…

An awful realisation struck Adrien that not only had this nonsense stopped him from confessing his
identity to Marinette, but it had also made his mother cry, made her sick with worry when she
already had a litany of health problems from her two years in captivity.

And why had Derek done this?

Because he’d wanted to be the biggest, most important person in the room. He’d done it for his
ego.

Nobody made his mother cry. Nobody.

“You know your career is over right?” Adrien laughed, low and cruel. “Once you let me go,
everyone will find out about this. You’re finished, François.”

Derek, ran his hand over his chin, a thundering river pretending to be a smooth stream. “Yes, about
that,” his voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed him. He was in too deep and he knew it. “You can
stay here until after the show, and then I will let you go. Nobody needs to know except us.”

“And why do you think I’d help you?” Adrien snapped. “Why the hell would I cover for you, you
low-rate Gaston wannabe?”

Remarkably, Derek ignored the slight. Instead, he sauntered over, and Adrien saw a dangerous
glint in his eye. It reminded him of a snake, backed into a corner, and for a moment Adrien was
worried.

“Because,” Derek leaned forwards, planting his hand down onto Adrien’s shoulder with a nasty
grin, his fingernails digging in, “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to your girlfriend now,
would we? Maybe I changed my mind in that regard.”

There was a pause, a beat, and Adrien cast his gaze up and down Derek form. He arched a brow.

“She could take you.”

Derek reeled back, spluttering. “She’s- but- she’s half our size!”

“First of all, I’m taller than you so jot that down,” Adrien replied, really twisting the knife in. Of
course, he didn’t care about such things, but he knew Derek did and his point was proven when
Derek scowled. One point against toxic masculinity (a phrase he’d learned from Alya). “Secondly,
you don’t know her like I do. Trust me. She could take you, and I’m not saying a thing to cover for
you. You kidnapped me, you idiot. And you think I’m going to do you a favour?”

Adrien waited for the yelling, the cursing and tantrum-like behaviours he’d grown used to seeing in
Derek in the few times he’d worked with him. He waited for the mask of obnoxious perfection to
crumble completely as he screamed and screamed at not getting his way. Good. Let him tantrum. It
would give Ladybug more time to find them.

But the tantrum didn’t come. Derek turned his back, panting through his nostrils like a horse gone
mad, but that was the closest he came towards losing total control.

Adrien watched, curious, as Derek pulled something out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

“I don’t think you have a choice in the matter,” Derek muttered darkly. “And I don’t think your
precious little girlfriend will have time to react. Not if she didn’t expect me.”

When he turned around, Adrien finally got a glimpse of what Derek was holding, and his blood
turned to ice.

“Where- where the hell did you get that?” Adrien choked.

“You of all people should know that, when you’re wealthy, you’re also connected. Drugs,
whores…guns,” Derek waved the small pistol around carelessly, and Adrien flinched, a gunshot
went off in his memory. The last time he’d been near a gun, what he’d almost lost, all of that hit
him full force.

This wasn’t funny or stupid anymore.

“Oh good, you’re paying attention now,” Derek chuckled. “About time you took this seriously.”

Derek shuffled closer, haphazardly waving the gun around in a way that had Adrien’s gut twisting.
Placing a hand on Adrien's shoulder, he leaned in with what Adrien assumed was meant to be an
intimidating grin. But something in his demeanour had shifted. Desperation poured from every
fibre of his suit.

Derek knew. He knew he was done for if Adrien got out.

No not if. When.

Derek was a wild, stupid animal, backed into a corner of his own making. Now he was trying to
claw out of it by any means necessary.

“Let’s repeat this, once more,” Derek hissed. The threats slowly filtered through blood-rushed ears.
Adrien was solely focused on the gun. “You aren’t going to tell anyone it was me, are you? It’d be
easy to track Marinette down. I’ll find her. And I’ll”-

“You’ll what?”

There must have been something in the way Adrien spoke, the bite against Derek’s bark, because
Derek snapped his hand away from his shoulder as though Adrien’s skin had burned him.

And perhaps it had. Because all Adrien knew in that moment was fire, and anger, and a dark urge
to protect at any cost. It consumed him, choked out every last fibre of reason and self-preservation
within him. But he allowed it. How could he not? When the very thing- the very person- being
threatened, was the one he loved the most.

He would rather die than let another person he loved get hurt this way.

“You’ll do nothing and you know why?” Adrien growled.. “Because you are nothing, and if you
even touch one hair on Marinette’s head, if you go anywhere near her, I’ll make sure you become
nothing. You’ll be nothing, you understand me? I’ll destroy you.”

Adrien meant it. For a split second, he truly meant it. He would’ve taken his miraculous and used it
to destroy. And not for the greater good. He would have fought against all the good in him, he
would have let the dark roots inside of him fester into uncontrollable, poisonous weeds. All to
protect her, to save her. He would have…he would have…

He would have become his father. For a moment, a split second of disgusting clarity, he understood
Gabriel Agreste’s actions.

The thought struck him so painfully, it was as if Derek had shot him already.

No.

He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t ever give in to that side of himself. The side he knew, deep down,
existed. If not for himself, but for the ones who trusted him to wield the power of destruction for
the forces of good. He had slipped once, recently, in destroying Evillustrator’s boat with no focus
on the target. He’d gotten lucky that time, there’d been no injuries.

Closing his eyes, he tried inhaling deeply, surprised to find himself shaking. He couldn’t give in to
the darker side of himself, the side of loneliness and forced isolation and betrayal and anger. He
wouldn’t.

He wasn’t his father. He wasn’t.

“Derek”- Adrien implored, eyes focused on the gun.

“FRANÇOIS,” Derek yelled, half strangled and still waving the gun after Adrien’s threats, “And if
you think that little speech was supposed to scare me, you’re wrong. So what if you’ll destroy my
career? My family’s just as rich as yours. If not more. My career will be fine.” He didn’t sound as
though he believed himself, Adrien thought, hence the gun.

Adrien shook his head sadly. Poor Derek. If only he knew just how close he’d come, the true
meaning behind Adrien’s threats. He’d run away screaming.

He tried inhaling deeply again, and it worked better as Adrien focused on coming up with a
solution instead. A peaceful one. Ladybug was always better at de-escalating a situation than he
was. He always jumped in first to defend, attack, protect. Sure, he always implored Ladybug to see
the best in people. But in a hostile situation like this, quick takedowns were his go-to move.

“François,” he conceded through gritted teeth. “Don’t you think this is all getting out of hand?
Wanting more attention than me is one thing, but kidnapping me? Threatening my loved ones? Do
you really want to go down this path? It’s not a good path. It’ll only bring you and your own loved
ones pain in the end. Trust me on that.”

Derek said nothing. For a moment, Adrien was worried he was doing things all wrong. But then,
slowly, Derek placed the gun back into his breast pocket. He was softening, ever-so-slightly, and
tiny strings of hope flared in Adrien’s chest at the thought.

“You shouldn’t care so much about getting the top spots anyway,” Adrien encouraged, nodding his
head with a faint smile. “You still have a killer following most models would dream of, and you’re
already rich. You don’t need to do this.”

As soon as the words slipped from his mouth, Adrien realised it had been the wrong thing to say.
The scowl twisted Derek’s face even more than before. He barked out a harsh, humourless laugh.
“Of course you’d say that, and that’s exactly why I need to do this,” he snarled, turning his back on
Adrien and scowling into the darkness. Adrien used this opportunity to tug at his bindings, trying to
get free.

“I know you think modelling is some sort of joke, a fake career,” Derek continued. “You’re just
biding your time, waiting to pay your dues to your daddy so you can run off and play professor like
you always wanted. But you’re the one who sits on the throne, you’re the most loved model, the
most sought after. And you don’t care. You have it all and you didn’t earn it and you don’t care.”

Adrien winced, stung by a harsh truth he’d never had to face before. It was true. He’d never chosen
to be a model, it was just something he did. He never stopped to consider the models who had
made the choice to be there, it was something that had simply never occurred to him.

Even so…

“Der- François, you have a point. I’ll admit. You do,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t make what
you’re doing now right. It’s too far. Come on. Just let me go, ‘kay? There are people out there
worried about me. My mother must be worried sick. Will you just let me go?”

Derek turned around and walked towards him a few paces. Adrien smiled wider, the hope in his
chest bloomed to match.

“I will,” Derek agreed, and Adrien almost sagged in relief before he added, “After the show.
Speaking of which, it’s about to be that time. I’ll have to leave soon, and you better remember my
threats when I do.”

Adrien very nearly swore. At the last second his composure held, even as the hope in his chest
turned to anger, about to burst out of him like a monster in a sci-fi movie.

He shook with the effort to calm himself, but miraculously, he managed it. “You know,” he said,
staring up at Derek. “I used to think everyone deserves a second chance.”

He thought back to his wide-eyed youth; the endless optimism, the unwavering faith that people
were fundamentally good, the liars he forgave again and again and again.

That optimism died two years ago, when he’d looked into the eyes of his father and only been able
to see his mortal enemy staring back. A black hole had been made in the spot where those eyes had
struck, and it had never been filled, never healed. Adrien wasn’t sure it could ever be. It had only
grown, in fact, when Ladybug had almost died in his arms, when he’d come face-to-face with true
evil.

Adrien pressed his lips together, his hands twisted in their bindings. He wanted to try, he wanted to
believe again, to capture that optimism he once had. “You’ve made a stupid, stupid mistake here,
but there’s still time to back out. Before anyone gets hurt. You can do it. You can let me go.” He
tried to smile again, he tried so hard. He wanted to believe. “Please? Just let me go. You can do it.
Nobody needs to get hurt, or threatened, or anything.”

“Adrien’s right.”

The additional voice broke through the tension like a bullet through glass, and Adrien’s heart leapt
just as Derek’s face turned to ice. Swivelling his head around, Adrien tried to look for her, but she
was hidden in the shadows.

He’d know that voice anywhere, though, and judging from the stone-cold terror Derek was
exuding, he recognised the voice too.

“Ladybug,” Adrien whispered, a prayer answered. She was here! She’d found him, just like he
knew she would.

A small weight pressed against his bound hands, nuzzling into them (though the nuzzler would
never admit it). A gentle nip to his fingers, and Adrien knew how Ladybug had managed to find
him.

Plagg you amazing, clever agent of chaos!

His fingers stretched to scratch at the hidden kwami however he could, wondering just how Plagg
had managed to track him down and lead Ladybug here without being seen, but he supposed he
could figure that out later. Immediately, he could feel his bindings starting to loosen as Plagg set to
the silent work of freeing him.

A quick glance at Derek, and Adrien saw the wild fear in him; the consequences chasing him from
the looming shadows. All at once, Adrien watched as the weight of Derek’s actions finally crashed
onto his shoulders and, with a whimper, he turned tail and fled.

It was then that three things happened in quick succession.

The first was Ladybug’s yo-yo, shooting out of the shadows from Adrien’s right. Ladybug herself
stepped into the light, a halo of sunlight framed her, making her appear almost ethereal. Adrien’s
heart clenched at the sight, wondering if this was how all civilians saw her. She tugged at her yo-
yo and it wrapped right around Derek’s legs, catching him before he could get away. He fell face-
first to the ground and she began dragging him backwards. Derek screamed, flailing like a
madman, fingernails digging into hard concrete.

The second was Plagg, biting through the last of Adrien’s bindings. Adrien sighed, bringing his
hands up in front of him as the blood rushed back to his wrists.

The third was the quickest and most horrifying of them all. As Derek twisted himself so he was
face up, he reached back into his pocket…

And just like that no more blood rushed back to Adrien’s wrists. It rushed to his feet instead. He
threw himself upwards, his breath catching. No, no, no! Not again! Please not again!

“Ladybug! HE HAS A GUN!”

The world slowed down. Adrien was moving before he even realised it. Ladybug’s attention swept
to him as he’d shouted.
Their eyes met.

Adrien threw himself in front of her, grabbing her by the waist as he’d done so many times before.
But there were no superpowers to protect him this time.

He threw them both to the ground, shielded her, protected her. Not again, not again, never again.
Please, please, please…

The gun went off.

Pain shot through Adrien’s hip as he hit the ground, awkwardly rolling whilst he cradled Ladybug
in his arms and landed on top of her, shielding her with his body. He heard her cry out and for one
terrible, awful moment, he feared the worst.

“Adrien!”

Lifting himself onto his forearms, their eyes met, noses inches from each other. Neither of them
dared breathe.

Ladybug wrapped an arm around his middle and, with an angry grunt, tore her gaze away from his
and nudged him out the way. Quicker than he’d ever seen her move, she shot out from under him,
coming to a kneeling position and grabbing the string of her yo-yo.

The yo-yo retracted, releasing Derek’s legs and he scrambled backwards, aiming again. Adrien was
on his feet in an instant, ready to protect her once more, but stumbled backwards as a dizzy spell
overcame him. His vision swam.

Before Derek could blink, Ladybug shot the yo-yo back out, wrapping it around his hand. She
pulled hard, yanking the gun out of his grip as she came to standing. It clattered to the floor
somewhere out of sight and out of reach and she began to pull Derek towards her.

Derek screamed, cried, swore at her, begged her for mercy but it fell on deaf ears.

“You know,” Ladybug said, her tone calm yet laced with ice. “I was prepared to go a little easier
on you because you’re a civilian and all.”

She grabbed his collar, pulling him towards her with a snarl. “But I think I changed my mind.”

And before Derek could beg for mercy one last time, she punched him square on the jaw. Derek
fell backwards, out cold.

It was only then, only when he knew Ladybug was fine, only when he saw the gun was far out of
reach, that Adrien collapsed. Falling to his knees he stared at the ground, his head pounding, his
ankle throbbing, the pain at his hip burning...

“Adrien!” he heard Ladybug call his name again but it was muffled sounding, far away. He began
to shake. It’s ok, he told himself, she’s safe. It’s ok. She’s ok. Nothing else matters.

He looked up when he heard her kneel in front of him, her warm hands checking him all over and
he closed his eyes with a sigh.

“Are you ok?! Are you hurt?! Did the gun-” she sounded frantic and he couldn’t have that. Opening
his eyes again he lifted his chin to her, offering her a small smile. He saw stars around her, and his
 vision was a little blurry, which only made her look lovelier.

“‘M’fine. Not shot,” He mumbled, resting his forehead against her shoulder, feeling oddly light
even as he worried he’d be sick at any moment. God his head was pounding. But it was ok,
Ladybug would take care of him.

“I think you have a concussion,” Ladybug said aghast, and Adrien had to agree with her. He felt so
strange. The sound of her communicator beeping filled the air. She must’ve been sending the
emergency services their location. “I’m so sorry, Adrien, this is all my fault! I’m so, so sorry. I
should’ve”-

Adrien shook his head and boy was that a bad idea. “Nah, My Lady. ‘Smy fault. I’m the idiot,” he
nuzzled into her shoulder. “Didn’t wanna lose you.”

“What- what do you mean?” Ladybug asked and Adrien leaned backwards, grinning through the
pain. She looked so upset and all he wanted was to make her feel better. She was so great, and he
knew he could always rely on her and he loved her so much.

Maybe he should just TELL her who he really was?! He was going to tell Marinette after all. He
should tell Ladybug too! To hell with their unspoken rule! It was dumb rule.

“Ladybug don’t freak out ‘kay?” he whispered, giggling. “It’s a secret. I gotta tell you! I’m”-

A loud clattering sound interrupted that train of thought and Ladybug’s hand was instantly at her
waist, grabbing her yo-yo. A cat shot out of the shadows and ran across to the other side of the
warehouse.

The next moment, doors lifted and the flashing lights of the police and ambulance crew flooded
the warehouse. Ladybug told him to wait as she called out to paramedics, ushering them over.

“Boy do you owe me big time,” Plagg murmured into his ear, before floating away to hide again.

Chapter End Notes

We were going to end it on the "the gun went off" cliffhanger but we thought we'd be a
bit nicer XD
Anyways hope you enjoyed! What was your fave part? Let us know in the comments!
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 Ribbons Part I
Chapter Notes

Hello! We hope you enjoy the start of this two part-er! Titled "Ribbons"

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“I can’t believe you almost confessed to Ladybug when you were concussed!”

Adrien pressed his palms into his eyes with a whine, leaning his forehead on his hospital room
window. “Wow, Plagg. This is, what, the eight millionth time you reminded me? Maybe give it
another million and it will sink in. Ow!”

Plagg pulled back, poking his tongue out from between his little fangs. Fangs which had just
nipped Adrien’s finger. “Don’t sass me! If it weren’t for my army of cats, Ladybug would never
have spotted the trail of skid marks Derek’s car left behind. AND you would be in an even deeper
mess right now if you actually admitted your identity to Ladybug.”

That much was true, but Adrien didn’t want to think too much about the implications of it all. The
idea of confessing when in such a state sent shivers down his spine.

He was tired. He wanted to go home.

Turning around, Adrien hobbled towards the bed and flopped face-first onto it with a sigh. He’d
already gotten dressed into normal clothes, so lying back down felt weird. Flipping over and sitting
on top of the bedsheets (which he’d tried and failed to remake as tight as they had been originally),
he stared out of the window again. The morning sky stared back at him, pale blue and maddeningly
normal. His parents had left the hospital an hour ago, along with the police, who’d asked him a few
questions. They’d gone to make a joint statement to the media, as word had broken that he’d been
kidnapped by another model and there was now a complete frenzy around the situation.

At least the media was now so focused on his kidnapping, the news about his and Marinette’s fake
relationship had died down. Adrien hoped she wouldn’t be subjected to any harassment about it
anymore.

When his parents left, the security guards outside his room had stayed, and he hated it. It made him
feel like a cat in a cage. He wished Ladybug was there instead, but she’d left after the paramedics
had taken him away.

According to the doctors, he’d gotten a lot more beat up than he’d realised. The ankle he’d landed
on awkwardly was sprained and would need at least two weeks rest. He’d been kept in the hospital
all of yesterday and overnight to make sure his concussion didn’t worsen. They’d also conducted
some scans to make sure his brain wasn’t damaged.

Adrien had the feeling that, in any other situation, once his scans had come back clear he would
have been let go. But with the ongoing investigation, coupled with his parents overprotectiveness,
it seemed like he wasn’t going anywhere for the day at least.

“When we go home,” Adrien said, scratching under Plagg’s chin, “I’ll buy you the biggest,
smelliest cheese wheel I can find.”

It was a thank you in the language Plagg could understand most, if the toothy grin was anything of
an indication.

Before Plagg could properly respond, a disturbance outside startled them both. Adrien tensed on
instinct, and Plagg hid away.

“I don’t care if you’re the freaking DGSI, my buddy is in there and IT’S VISITING HOURS!”

“Nino?” Adrien called, mouth agape.

“Adrien?” Nino called back.

“Nino!” Adrien sat up. His whole body felt brighter at his voice.

There was the sound of scuffling and a nurse admonishing them all, before the door burst open and
Nino hurried in. “BRO!”

Genuinely tearing up, Adrien beamed at his friend. “Bro!”

In a feat of acrobatics Adrien hadn’t seen outside of a superhero costume, Nino launched himself
halfway across the room into Adrien’s arms. “YOU’RE SAFE! YOU’RE OK!” he cried, pulling
away and patting Adrien’s head gently. “At least I think you’re ok? You look ok, a little roughed
up but ok.”

“I mean, if he can withstand the blunt-force bro-ness, I’m sure he’s fine,” Alya announced herself
with her usual flair, settling into one of the chairs by his bed and smiling at Adrien. Her whole face
softened when seeing him. “Hey hon, how you holding up?”

“With a lot of painkillers,” Adrien chuckled as Nino stopped patting him and sat in the chair next
to Alya, still looking on the verge of bursting into tears at a moment's notice. This had the
unfortunate side effect of making Adrien want to cry too. They had a habit of setting each other off.
“It’s good to see you both.”

“Both?” Alya sat up looking around with a scowl, fingers digging into the worn wooden arms of
the chair. Her head swivelled back towards Adrien like a mother owl and she grinned sharply.
“Excuse me,” she hissed between her teeth.

In the blink of an eye, she’d disappeared out of the room. Both Adrien and Nino watched the open
door with varying degrees of curiosity.

Another scuffle, Alya’s voice rising in speed and pitch, another nurse chastising them. The next
moment, Alya returned.

And following behind her was Marinette.

Adrien’s heart plummeted to the floor at the sight of her. If it weren’t for the air being knocked out
of his lungs, he would have launched himself out of the bed and pulled her in his arms, would have
kissed her like a man returning from war. Lucky for them, his ankle probably couldn’t withstand
that much action.

It had been an eternity since he’d seen her and so much had happened. The world thought they
were dating, an idiot threatened his life and proceeded to threaten hers, and all the while he hadn’t
been able to so much as call her.
He’d missed her so much and, now that she was here, the urge to hold her again was unbearable.

But he couldn’t. Not like this.

His fingers tightened on the bed sheets as she walked further into the room, not looking at him,
staring at the floor. Her shoulders were up by her ears and her eyes were watery. It was almost the
most vulnerable he’d ever seen her and he wanted to make it ok. A brief memory flashed of
Marinette saying that she hated hospitals.

If he couldn’t embrace her the way he wanted, he could certainly make her feel better.

“H-Hey Adrien,” Marinette whispered, nervously tucking a stray hair behind her ear. Maybe it was
the fact that he hadn’t been allowed to see her but she looked different somehow. Still lovely, of
course, but different. “I hope you’re ok?”

“I’m ok,” he replied, scooching up in the bed. The sheets were now officially a lost cause. “Fit as a
fiddle!”

“We ran into your mum downstairs and she said you had a concussion and a sprained ankle?” Alya
replied. “Have you had scans yet? And what about the scar on your head? Did you need stitches?”

“No stitches and the scan came back clear,” Adrien placated with a wave of the hand. It looked like
Alya was five seconds from mother henning all over the place. “Anyway, I thought you’d be more
interested in the scoop? I did just have a mini adventure with Ladybug after all.”

A squeak interrupted the conversation and their heads turned to Marinette, who was now staring at
the outside window.

“Sorry!” she gasped, smiling awkwardly. “There was a bird. Big bird! Spooked me!”

In her embarrassment, she glanced up, accidentally meeting Adrien’s eyes.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and shiny. She’d been crying.

Adrien added a gut-punch to his list of ailments. Why? Why had she been crying? Was it because
of him? Had she been crying...because she was worried about Adrien?

Or worse, because she was worried about Chat Noir? He’d up and left her in the middle of a media
storm with no support, and no way of knowing where he was or if he was ok. The thought made
the gut punch turn into a painful twist.

As if she sensed him reading her, Marinette took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself and
staring out the window again. She stood in the furthest corner from his bed.

It hurt. It was like she didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
“So a model kidnapping another model eh?” Nino said, perhaps a little louder than normal, like
he’d sensed the strange tension in the air. “I admit, I just thought he was kind of dick. Didn’t think
he’d actually threaten and kidnap you.”

“He actually threatened more than me,” Adrien mumbled, staring at Marinette.

The others followed suit. Alya was the first to realise what he meant, and her mouth dropped open.
“Oh hell no,” she shook her head, jumping to her feet. “He threatened Mari, too?”

“That’s low,” Nino growled.

“So your rich-boy lawyers are going to nail his ass to the wall, right? He should be in prison for the
rest of his life!” Alya hurried over to Marinette, who was taken aback by the news but nowhere
near the level of scared or shocked by it. They linked arms and Alya rested a chin on her shoulder.

Adrien never thought he’d be jealous of his reporter friend, but here they were. How pathetic.

He distracted himself from the clawing need to reach out to Marinette himself by thinking of
Derek’s fate. A wicked grin crossed his face. “Oh trust me,” he said. “He’s going to rue the day he
threatened Marinette.”

“You mean threatened yourself?” Marinette replied.

Adrien shook his head, deadly serious. “Nope. I was prepared to forgive him for being a
competitive, desperate idiot for kidnapping me. But nobody threatens you. Ever.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. Heat flooded to her face and she turned to stare out of the window with
the tiniest eep .

Cursing inwardly, Adrien bit down on the inside of his cheek. He’d showed his hand too much, let
out too much Chat Noir and made her uncomfortable.

“That’s right!” Nino whooped from his side, offering up a fist for Adrien to bump. “Let’s get this
clown and then go out for dinner to celebrate. I’ve missed you! I know it’s been, like, a few days
but it feels like a lifetime!”

“Dinner sounds great. I’ve missed seeing everyone,” Adrien smiled, trying desperately not to stare
at Marinette anymore, to varying degrees of success.

“Well you sure did have some great company in Ladybug,” Alya chuckled, jostling Marinette
playfully. Marinette turned, offering Alya the briefest of scowls. Huh. That was weird. “We heard
that she was helping the investigation.”

Marinette cleared her throat, and Ayla stopped talking immediately.

“Did you want to get out your recorder?” Adrien asked, trying to make sense of everything, and
coming up blank. He hadn’t realised people knew about Ladybug’s involvement.

Alya, too, gave him a blank look. “Heh?”

“To record my interview for the Ladyblog?”

The wheels clicked into place and Alya got off of Marinette with an indignant splutter. “I’m not
that kind of reporter!”

“We’re not here for a story about Ladybug, Adrien,” Nino added kindly, patting Adrien on the
shoulder- a touch so gentle Adrien might have missed it if he hadn’t been looking.

“The Ladyblog can wait,” Alya said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But it wasn’t.
Not to someone like Adrien, who’d been so lonely most of his life. “We’re here because we love
you and wanted to check if you were ok.”

Adrien stared down at his lap. A warm glow filled his chest. Sometimes he forgot he had friends.

“How do you feel, anyway?” Marinette asked, stepping closer to his bed and clasping her hands
together. “It can’t have been easy, going through all of that.”

“Honestly?” Adrien sighed. “I just want to go home and put it all behind me now. Aside from
making sure Derek faces justice-”

Nino made a strangled noise. “Excuse me, his real name is DEREK?” he was quickly silenced by
Alya’s elbow lightly ribbing him. Settling back in his chair sheepishly, Nino covered his mouth to
hide his smile. But Adrien could tell he was planning a great deal of jokes about it. He couldn’t
wait to hear them.

“Anyways,” Adrien continued. “Aside from Derek facing justice, all I want is to go back home.
And not to my parents’ place. My own bed.”
“You miss it?” Marinette was closer to him now. Liquid heat pulsed through his skin at the sight of
her and he’d realised he was lying. To go home was not all he wanted.

What was going home worth if she wasn’t there with him? She was home to him. More than any
apartment could ever be.

“Yeah,” He sighed, lounging back on the pillows and staring at her with a small smile. “You
should come there too.”

There was a pause.

Adrien lurched upwards, beetroot red. “I mean come to my apartment! Not my bed! Not that you
should come in- I mean- TO my bed! I MEAN, umm, you should visit my apartment because
you’ve never been.”

“No, no, I got what you meant, it's fine!” Marinette squeaked back, possibly turning redder than he
was.

It made Adrien pause. That… was new.

He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d made a fool of himself around her, but he’d never seen
her act like this. Was it guilt making her more embarrassed by his verbal blunders?

And WHAT was it that was different about her, besides her behaviour? It was really starting to nag
at him.

They stayed for a bit longer, talking and making jokes. Once Nino found out Adrien hadn’t had
access to his phone for a while, he immediately showed him some new memes that Adrien had
missed out on. They’d all had a good laugh, and any awkwardness had melted away.

As Adrien’s parents were returning soon, they decided it was best to give him and his family some
space.

“You let us know if you need anything though,” Alya said, giving Adrien a quick hug.

“I will do,” Adrien replied earnestly as Alya stepped away and Nino swooped in for a hug too.

Patting Nino on the back, Adrien turned to Marinette, who’d paused awkwardly in front of him.

He was about to say that it was ok, she didn’t have to hug him if she didn’t want to, but was cut off
as she threw his arms around him.

Adrien could help but give a light gasp as she tightened her hold on him. Almost like she didn’t
want to let go. For some reason, he wanted to cry. It was as if he’d been carrying this burden of
panic, of stress and tension, the worry about her and the threats made towards her, and it melted
away the second she was in his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her
shoulder.

“Stay safe, ok?” she whispered and her voice sounded different somehow. “Don’t get any more
trouble because of me.”

“I won’t,” he lied. He’d always get in trouble if it meant keeping her safe. The scent of her
shampoo filled his nose and he tried not to deliberately inhale like a creep. It made him feel a
calmness he hadn’t experienced since all of this had begun.
The feeling was woefully short lived.

As Marinette pulled back, Adrien figured out what was different about her, and the calmness was
replaced with an all-consuming dread.

She wasn’t wearing her green ribbons.

“So that went better than expected, right?” Alya declared, shutting the front door behind her.
Having said goodbye to Nino, she and Marinette headed back to the bakery. Grabbing a few
pastries, they traipsed up to the empty apartment.

Marinette had been brave. She had managed to keep up a semi-strong front. But the second she
heard the click of her apartment door close, she fell apart.

Bursting into tears, she covered her face with her hands and doubled over.

“Oh. Oh hun come here,” Alya’s voice permeated her sadness. She was by her side in an instant,
wrapping her arms around Marinette and pulling her close. For some reason, the comfort made
Marinette cry harder, and she buried her face into Alya’s shoulder.

“Snotty t-shirt,” she warned Alya through her sobs.

Alya scoffed, rubbing her back. “I think you and I have both seen enough of each others snot to last
a lifetime.” When Marinette gave a half-choked sob-laugh in response, Alya lifted up her chin and
began to stoke her hair. “There we go, you know I’m right. Come on.”

She led Marinette to the kitchen table, where Marinette collapsed into a chair and stared out into
space. After the initial burst, her tears subsided into a more pitiful stream.

Tikki floated up, nuzzling her cheek softly. “It’s ok Marinette,” she said through a yawn.
“Everything will be alright.”

Marinette frowned at the little kwami, giving her a quick kiss. Tikki looked as tired as Marinette
felt. She’d stayed up by Marinette’s side all night as Marinette had cried, tossed and turned, been
unable to rest through the mental images of Adrien diving in front of her, the nauseating moment
where she thought he’d actually been shot.

“Tikki why don’t you get some sleep?” Marinette suggested, trying to mask her guilt with
kindness.

Tikki made a sound of protest and, seeming to read her mind, Alya turned from her spot at the
counter. “Don’t worry,” she told her. “I’m here. Marinette won’t be on her own.”

Although Tikki still looked wary, her yawning intensified and she pressed a paw against her mouth.
After the yawns subsided, she conceded. “Okay, but I’ll be right upstairs so wake me if you need
me.”

When she left, the remaining pair lapsed into a brief silence. As Alya pottered about the kitchen for
some wine and glasses (knowing Marinette’s kitchen well enough by this point to help herself),
Marinette wondered how she’d gotten to this point. Images of Adrien plagued her mind. Adrien
diving in front of a bullet for her, Adrien being strangely affectionate during his concussion, Adrien
being so protective at the hospital, Adrien…
...Adrien telling her that he loved her.

The clink of a glass, the unmistakable sound of liquid pouring, and Alya was nudging some wine
her way.

“You know wine really shouldn’t solve my emotional distress,” Marinette sighed, wiping her eyes
and taking a large gulp.

“Sip it you heathen,” Alya chastised before pouring her a bit more to top her up. The act of being
told off for not treating her wine right made Marinette feel instantly better. Seriously, how did Alya
always know what to say?

When Marinette commented as such, Alya shrugged. “Well, duh, of course I know how to make
you feel better. We’ve been friends for a bajillion years.” She sat down in a chair opposite to
Marinette, placing the plate of pastries between them and picking up her own glass.

They munched and sipped in silence, Alya giving Marinette some much needed time to calm her
tide of tears. She was grateful for that.

After a few minutes, Marinette placed down her glass and put her heels on her chair, wrapping her
arms around her knees. “Adrien told me he loves me.”

At Alya’s sounds of distress, her head snapped up. Just in time to see her friend choking on a bit of
pastry. Alarmed, Marinette’s only thought was to lurch forward and offer Alya more wine. But
Alya held up a finger and she waited for the coughing to subside instead.

“Warn me next time!” Alya cried, her voice raspy, and poured herself another glass.

Marinette settled back into place on her chair, offering apologies.

“So, how did he tell you? I’ve had a feeling he’s crazy about you, but I never wanted to say
anything. It’s his business to tell you, you know?” Alya replied, another reminder of her personal
growth. Back when they’d been kids, the second anyone revealed their crush on Marinette, Alya
had instantly told her. “Plus you have your thing with Chat Noir.”

Marinette winced.

“Ok WHAT was that?” Alya put her glass down, lips pressed thin in her scrutiny. “Has something
happened? Did you two break up?”

The words ‘break up’ hit Marinette like a… well like a bullet. Between seeing Adrien, the thing
with Chat, and the stress of visiting a hospital, it all became too much. A fresh wave of tears fell
from her eyes and she curled in on herself.

“I don’t know,” she admitted in a trembling voice. It was a horrible, terrible truth. A strange sort of
limbo. “I don’t know and it’s killing me. I haven’t seen him since the social media storm over mine
and Adrien’s fake relationship. I don’t know if he’s angry with me, if he’s off somewhere
heartbroken, or worse.” She trailed off, staring at her wine glass. Alya filled it without hesitation.
“What scares me the most is that he didn’t show up to any of the bodyguard meetings. He wasn’t
there to help me protect Adrien, he wasn’t there to help when Adrien got kidnapped and almost
shot. And why? Is it because he’s in trouble or is he just being petty? He always tells me when
he’s going out of town, as Ladybug I mean. That’s why I’m scared.”

“And then there’s Adrien,” Marinette trailed off staring into her wine glass. “When I was watching
him as Ladybug, he told me he’s in love with me. Me-me, not Ladybug me. He was all ‘I’m in
love with Marinette’ and I was like ‘WHAT’ even though I had to stay quiet. But now so much of
his behaviour makes sense, and Alya? Alya, he dove in front of me to protect me from a bullet.
That’s how he got a concussion! After I rescued him, I went home and saw he’d sent a text before
he got kidnapped. He was warning me that I’d been threatened too, and I think he got kidnapped on
his way to check I was ok. And where was Chat through all of this? I have no idea. I’m just so
confused.”

There was silence. Alya slumped back in her seat, exhaling a large puff of air, her eyes wide.

“We’re through the bottle,” she said, looking at the now empty wine bottle.

They stared at each other. A silent conversation.

Marinette stood up and grabbed a new bottle.

“A terrible, excellent decision,” Alya nodded in approval.

They were a little ways through the second bottle, Marinette feeling a warm buzz in her mind and
heart, when Alya turned to her. “So what are you going to do? About Chat? When he comes back
around again.”

“If he comes back you mean,” Marinette sulked. The warm feeling dissipated and she stared at the
table morosely.

Alya scoffed. “Of course he’s going to come back. He loves you. Even if the reason he’d kept
away is because he thinks you’re in a relationship with Adrien, he’ll come back. He’ll want
answers.”

The idea that he wanted answers, as if Marinette had done something wrong and she needed to
prove her innocence, made something inside her snap.

Her shoulders raised and she slammed down her wine glass, a few drops splashed onto the table.
“He’s the one who needs to give me answers! He needs to tell me why he abandoned me! ADRIEN
COULD HAVE DIED because Chat wasn’t there to back me up! But you know what? Maybe I
don’t want to hear it! Maybe I’m tired of being in a relationship full of half-truths. It’s not a real
relationship is it? How can we really love each other like this? If one of us can ghost the other so
easily! That’s not a relationship, that’s not real love! It’s a fantasy!”

Picking up her wine glass again, Marinette finished the last few sips. The more she sipped, the
angrier she became. Wine fuelled her rage, where it usually served to mellow her out.

She stumbled up to her room, with Alya on her heels. When she got there, Marinette pulled out her
stationary and began writing.

“What are you doing?” Alya asked, curious more than accusatory.
“I need a break,” Marinette said as she scribbled away. “I need a breather from all of it. This has
been… a lot.” A gentle hand pressed against her shoulder and she sighed. “I just… need a break. I
need some time to sort out my feelings, my head is all messed up.”

Once she finished the note she stared at it, before staring up at the door to her balcony.

“I really need a break.”

Alya read the note over her shoulder. “You sound like you’ve made up your mind, and if you need
a break then I know the perfect thing. Come on.” She grabbed Marinette’s hand. “Sleepover?”

Marinette paused. Although the idea of a drunken sleepover with her best friend was heaven right
now, she needed to do one last thing.

Placing her note in a little envelope, she put it in a protective plastic wallet (in case it rained) and
climbed up to her balcony.

Pausing for a moment, she stared out at the railings. That was where her and Chat had kissed for
the first time…

Her heart cracked but the wine flowed through her body, urging her on.
Taping the note down, Marinette went back inside and locked the door behind her.

The sound of Hawkmoths’ return, wreaking havoc and destruction on the city of Paris, roused
Marinette from her sofa-bound slumber and she groaned.

At least, that was what it sounded like to her hungover ears. In reality, her father had just turned the
coffee machine on.

“Pa- pa ,” she croaked, trying to sound disapproving but letting out a pathetic whine instead.
“Please.”

“Morning Mademoiselle Drunkinette!” Tom chirped and Marinette cringed. Sitting upright, she ran
a hand over her face.

Everything hurt.

“Coffee? I hear coffee,” Alya sat up beside her, mumbling. The back of her short hair was sticking
up in funny angles and her glasses were knocked askew.

They’d spent the night in the living room, drinking more wine and watching a strange mix of
cheesy romance films and even cheesier action movies until they’d fallen asleep somewhere in the
middle of streaming Die Hard 18: Die Hardest at the Dying Death or something. Marinette lost
track of what they’d actually watched.

Alya slid off the sofa in a way that reminded Marinette of a very sleepy snake, before zombie-
walking over to the kitchen where Tom was in the process of making cups of coffee.

“So did you girls have fun last night?” Tom’s voice boomed, and Marinette dragged the blankets
back over her head with a groan. “I’ll take that as a yes. Though I’m offended you watched
Bridesmaids without me, so I’m going to grind some coffee beans now! Make a fresh batch!”

“NO!” Marinette and Alya both cried. The idea of the coffee grinder, screeching in all its glory,
made them both want to be sick.

Tom laughed, grabbing his fresh cup and heading out the door, stopping to press a gentle kiss to
Marinette’s forehead. “I brewed a fresh mug for you. It’s on the table. Feel better soon.”

Marinette thanked him, but only braved getting to her feet when he’d left, just in case Troll Dad
returned with a vengeance.

“Why are wine hangovers the worst?” Alya grumbled, sipping at her coffee and checking her
phone. “I never feel this way when I have cocktails.”

“Because we’re French. We abused the wine by not savouring enough. The French wine gods.
They punish us for our crimes,” Marinette replied, shuffling into the kitchen and grabbing the mug
her father had left for her, taking her first glorious sip of coffee for the day. She leaned against the
kitchen counter and tilted her chin back with a sigh.

Alya chuckled, then pressed her hand to her forehead and sank down to the kitchen table. “Oh
don’t make me laugh, it’s too early,” she whined. Then her eyes lit up and she smiled. “Good
news! Nino messaged to say Adrien got let out of the hospital yesterday. He’s totally clear and
ready to go home.”

But Marinette hadn’t heard a word beyond ‘Adrien.’ His name triggered a wave of memories, the
 anger, the confusion, the hurt she’d felt yesterday… all of it coming to a head as she’d written a
note to Chat Noir- telling him to leave her alone for a while.

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want Adrien to be released from hospital?” Alya frowned.

Marinette glanced down at her coffee and sighed, deflated and hung over. “What? No, I mean the
note I wrote to Chat last night? Ugh what was I thinking! Of course I don’t want him to give me
space. At least not before we’ve had a chance to discuss things first. I mean, I do need some space
because he’s hurt me a lot. But I should at least talk to him and tell him why. Before all of this, I
wanted to tell him my identity, and I still want to do that. I guess I should just sit down and
properly discuss it with him first, and then we can go from there. We’ve been through so much
together, as Ladybug and Chat Noir I mean. He deserves more than a stupid note like we’re
teenagers! God!”

“I mean you were pretty drunk at that point,” Alya shrugged. “You know I’m here to support you
whatever you decide. And, to play devil's advocate, it’s perfectly reasonable to leave him a note
when he’s ghosted both you and LB.”

“Yes but two wrongs don’t make a right, in this instance,” Marinette put her coffee mug down and
made her way upstairs. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“I’ll be here, praying for death,” Alya replied, waving a hand before pressing her head to the table
with a dramatic moan.

Marinette sighed again. As she semi-crawled her way up to her room, her body screamed at her to
get some rest, collapse onto her bed and simply forget everything.

Tikki flew down to her, worrying at her lip. “Marinette there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Hold on Tikki, I have to get the note I left Chat Noir last night,” Marinette interrupted, opening
the latch and climbing up onto the balcony. “Owwww,” she hissed, covering her eyes as the sun
assaulted them.

Tikki followed her out onto the balcony. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I think Chat Noir was
here last night.”

Marinette’s blood went cold.

No.

No it wasn’t possible.

Without another word she slammed the top of the balcony door down, only to confirm, with
absolute horror, what Tikki had said.

It was true.

Chat Noir had been there.

The note was gone.

Chapter End Notes

We're sorry- it hurt us too.

But lol also welcome to paintown.

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 Ribbons Part ll
Chapter Notes

Hey everyone! We hope you enjoy the longest chapter of When Duty and Desire Meet
Yet!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Adrien didn’t know what to do.

Walking towards the Gaming Club, he felt completely separate from his body, as though he was in
a horrible dream watching things happen he couldn’t control. His arms swung loosely by his sides,
his brain was in a fog.

It had been two days since he’d been released from the hospital. Two days since he’d finally, at
long last, been able to reunite with Marinette, with his precious, wonderful girlfri-

Ah. That was an issue. Was she even his girlfriend anymore?

The note she’d left was resting in his satchel, in its own pocket. He must’ve read it a thousand
times by now. Poured over every line, traced over every letter as each word sunk into his skin,
rattled and shook his insides. Even so, he had the urge to look at it again, read it again, to search
for some clue that told them they weren’t over, that he hadn’t ruined this for good.

He shook his head as he pushed open the doors, entering the complex of classrooms where the
Gaming Club was hosted. This was silly. All the note had said was that Marinette was confused
and hurt by his absence, how she needed space from him for a while. She’d said she wanted to talk
eventually, but she was hurt.

Adrien placed a hand against his chest. Hurt. He’d hurt her by not showing up. Of course she’d
gone to the natural conclusion that he was upset that she was allegedly dating someone else. The
timings were ripe for a disaster of miscommunications and he had only himself to blame for not
speaking out sooner.

When she wanted to see him again, he was going to tell her who he was. He’d already vowed to do
so, but now his resolve had doubled. These secrets and half-truths had caused too much damage,
too much doubt and fear. He needed her to understand. Hopefully, she would forgive him. But he’d
keep silent for now. He’d respect her wishes. To barge into her space and reveal his identity, to
demand his presence be acknowledged, was too emotionally manipulative. If he ignored her
wishes, broke into her room and de-transformed, it would seem like he was trying to use his
identity to his advantage, as a way to persuade her into staying with him.

No. They would clear up this horrid misunderstanding. Then and only then would he reveal his
identity.

“What am I doing?” he whispered to himself at the top of the staircase, staring into the dimly-lit
depths below. He shouldn’t even be coming to the Gaming Club should he? Yes, Marinette’s note
had been directed at Chat Noir, but it wouldn’t be respecting her wishes if he still spent time
around her wouldn’t it? Even as Adrien.
But the will to see her, to know she was alright, was unbearable. Her green ribbons were gone, the
way she’d looked in the hospital, now the note… the fact that she’d mentioned Derek’s threats.
She must’ve been so worried about it all and he hadn’t been there to soothe those fears. He had
failed her as a partner. Just as he had once failed Ladybug.

The thought made the terrible clawing sensation in his chest deepen and Adrien was almost
breathless with the pain of it.

He gripped the railing tight, swallowed thickly. This wasn’t going to work, was it? How was he
going to hold himself together in front of her? The moment he saw her, he knew he’d fall apart.
Marinette had asked him to stay away so he needed to do exactly that. As both of his identities.

Releasing the railing, Adrien turned and got out his phone. Marinette would worry about him if he
didn’t show up. He was supposed to go for his mental health after all, that was the point of him
joining the club in the first place. Not wanting to place any more stress on her than he already had,
he began to type a message to the group chat apologising and offering an excuse for his absence.

As he walked out the door he bumped into someone in a hurry and his phone almost flew out of his
hands.

“Woah! Sorry man!”

Adrien’s head shot up at the sound of Nino’s voice and, despite all the inner anguish, he smiled.

“No worries,” he replied, putting his phone away. “You running late?”

“Yeah, I usually help set up but I think half the damn metro is closed for whatever reason, so I
walked a lot of the way,” Nino explained with a shrug, then gestured to his backpack. “Mari’s
setting up on her own so I stopped off to buy snacks by way of apology.”

“Sweet,” Adrien said and it was nice to have a normal conversation, even for a little bit. No talk of
Derek, or kidnappings, or how thoroughly he’d messed up his love life.

Nino frowned, glancing out the door and then back to Adrien. “Were you leaving or something?
How come you were walking out?”

Adrien froze. “Ah,” he drawled out, high and awkward. “I changed my mind about going. You
know with everything that happened I’m worried about how far behind I got with my studies and I
have a bunch of papers to mark. Plus loads of other stuff.”

Nino scoffed, flapping a hand. “Papers-shmapers! You’ve been through a lot and you need to let
off steam.”

Oh boy do you not even know the half of it Adrien thought, then gave a start when Nino grabbed
his arm and started frog marching him down the stairs.

“Nino, wait,” he cried, resisting. A wave of panic hit him. How had he ever thought going to the
club was a good idea? “I can’t. I really can’t.”

He tugged his arm out of Nino’s grip and Nino grunted in response, losing his balance. Adrien’s
eyes widened and he swooped down to stop his friend from falling down the stairs. That’s just
what he didn’t need, more blood on his hands.

Nino frowned, turning to glance at him. “Dude, what’s going on?”

Adrien started backing away, back up the stairs, back towards the entrance. His heart was
pounding. You see? You only know how to hurt the people you love.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go,” he said. Then he fled.

Adrien never wanted special treatment. But, because of the surname he carried, special treatment
often followed wherever he went. His PhD, however, was different. He insisted to his professors
that he be treated like every other student as he didn’t want to be seen as getting favours. At first
they were reluctant. Nobody wanted to fail the son of Gabriel Agreste, after all.

But the silver lining in the storm of awfulness that was finding out his father was Paris’ main
supervillain, had been that he was able to get Gabriel to back off. His PhD was his and his alone.
Finally, he would be able to earn something due to his own efforts, not because people were scared
of the consequences if they dared deny him.

And equal treatment led him to the Broom Closet.

At a certain point in the programme, PhD students were eligible for their own offices. None of
these were glamorous by any stretch of the word. The PhD offices were usually the gloomiest,
most run-down, tiniest rooms at the university. Had Adrien allowed his privilege to step in, he
would have automatically had a room more akin to a fully qualified academic, possibly even better
than theirs.

But Adrien never wanted that. He wanted to start from the dankest, dingiest little closet office and
work his way up to an office with a big desk and whiteboards, with an actual window or two and
maybe a coffee machine if he was feeling extra daring.

So he had an office, yes. If you could really call it that. Plagg called it the Broom Closet and the
name stuck. It was big enough for his desk and an extra chair on the opposite side for any of his
students. There was a tiny window at the top which allowed for some light and Adrien had brought
a little warm desk lamp, as the blue-white of the overhead light gave him migraines. There was
also, quite peculiarly, a constant smell of spinach.

Adrien loved the Broom Closet to pieces.

It was there he sat, marking papers as a way to calm himself down after his near-miss with Nino
and the Gaming Club. Plagg was curled up in his own drawer, where he’d made a nest of snacks
and mini cushions. Headphones in, Adrien played some music and hoped the monotonous task
would calm his racing heart.

He was halfway through his impressive paper stack, and about a quarter of the way through his I’m
Pretending Everything is Fine playlist, when a loud knock jolted him out of his concentration and
he gave a start.

Nino had sought him out.

“Gaming Club is done,” he said, an unreadable expression on his face, as Adrien ushered him in
and closed the door behind them both. They settled down in their respective chairs, the desk in the
way. “I just wanted to check up on you, you seemed really out of it and I worried.”

Adrien sighed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. Noticing his
headphones were still blaring out a song, he quickly switched them off to give Nino his full
attention. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about that man. I just panicked and- you ok?”

Nino was wrinkling his nose. “Fine, but like, you aware your office smells like boiled cabbage?”

“Spinach actually,” Adrien shrugged. “Pretty sure it’s boiled spinach.”

“Right. Yeah. Makes sense,” Nino replied, nodding absent-mindedly. Lightly shaking himself out
of his distraction, he looked up at Adrien. At once, his remorseful puppy eyes met Adrien’s and he
burst out with, “Look man, I’m really sorry! We should have talked about it all before you came
back, but I was running late and it just totally slipped my mind. I should have told you Mari and I
asked everyone not to bug you about the whole kidnapping stuff. Everyone is really glad you’re ok,
but we weren’t going to bother you with a million questions about it. We’re all there to have fun
and kidnappings are- like- the exact opposite. So Gaming Club’s honour! We promise we won’t
mention it. We missed you tonight.”

After such a heartfelt, caring speech, Adrien couldn’t help but be touched. Once again he
marvelled at how many people had come to care for him, for Adrien and not Chat Noir. Like a ray
of sunlight, Nino’s kind words broke through Adrien’s brain fog. But only a little.

“I had a feeling you’d both do something like that,” Adrien replied, pulling out a tin of chocolates
he saved for any students who came to visit. He offered them to Nino, who took one with an
expression somewhere between relieved and confused. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

They munched on their chocolate for a brief, contemplative silence.

“So,” Nino replied after a while. “You really didn’t freak out over everyone wanting to know about
the kidnapping?”

“I’m secretly traumatised about lots of things, but the kidnapping probably isn’t one of them,”
Adrien responded dryly, choosing a small cookie from the tin this time. “Neither is how other
people would react to my kidnapping.”

“Okaaaay we’re going to put a pin in that one and save that for later,” Nino said, making a pinning
gesture and leaning back in his chair. He fixed Adrien with a harder stare. “So, then, it didn’t have
anything to do with the whole Derek incident.”

“I promise it wasn’t that,” Adrien replied honestly.

“And you seem to have a handle on the marking you missed.”

Adrien’s head swivelled towards the large chunk of papers he’d already made his way through.
Suddenly he felt like he’d walked into a trap. “Uhh…” he took another bite of cookie and tried to
remain calm.

“So, then, is everything alright with you and Marinette?”

Adrien choked on the cookie.

“Marinette?” he rasped. Instantly, his mind filled with images of her. None of them were good. A
particularly nasty one forced itself to the forefront, a more recent one from his nightmares, one
where Marinette had joined Ladybug the time she’d been shot, lying side-by-side, both of their
blood on his hands. He shoved the image to the back again, his heart leaping into his throat. “Why?
Is she okay? Is she hurt? How is she feeling, did she worry about me not being there? I tried to be
respectful and stay away.”
“Why the hell would she want you to stay away?” Nino frowned. “You’re her friend! Of course she
wouldn’t want you to stay away. She cares about you. And to answer your question, I guess she’s
ok? She seemed super tired and out of it tonight but, like always when she’s upset, she tries to
pretend she’s fine and able to handle it. A bit like you actually.”

Adrien fought not to wince, but failed miserably.

Sighing, Nino adjusted his glasses and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the desk. “Look, I’m
only gonna ask this once ok? And whatever you say I’ll believe you. But… what is going on with
you two? Really? I know it could easily be that you’re both upset about what happened to you, but
it doesn’t feel like that, ya know? And you said it wasn’t anything to do with that. I also overheard
Marinette facetiming Alya, I know I shouldn’t have and it was an accident, but it sounded like
she’d broken up with someone. So, look, I’ve gotta ask. Have you two been dating in secret? I
thought maybe it was a secret because your dad seems like a stuck-up jerk, but that’s just a theory.”
He paused, no doubt watching the colour draining from Adrien’s face.

He went on, “Both of you are acting like you’re romantic messes at the moment. I’ve been putting
two and two together, like how cosy you both got when you were pretending to be a couple? Yeah
that looked real for a reason I’m betting. And when I spoke to her about it, she got all upset and
told me that things are complicated. Plus I’ve known you’ve been crazy about her for a while,
you’d have to be blind not to see that! I don’t know man, I might just be looking for eggs in a dairy
farm, but I care about you both and want to make sure.”

There was another pause. At first, Adrien felt the instinct to lie again, to fall back onto the patterns
he’d followed for the past four years, since he’d got the ring on his finger. He flexed his hand,
twisted the miraculous, ready to cover the truth once more.

Then he looked at Nino’s earnest expression, and a wave of exhaustion hit him. He’d never had a
guy friend like Nino before. Sure Plagg cared about him, but he often wasn’t the best source of
emotional comfort.

He was so tired of the lies. He was tired of pretending everything was fine. Someone was there, in
front of him, looking out for him, giving him the option to be emotionally vulnerable. And Adrien
craved that more than anything. At a time when he was even hiding from Ladybug, cancelling
patrols because he was just so ashamed of everything, his resolve began to crumble.

Like an ancient stone wall met with a tsunami, Adrien’s defences fell, and he slumped forwards,
head on his desk. “I’ve messed everything up, Nino. I’ve messed everything up.”

He felt a gentle weight on the crown of his head as Nino patted it. “I’m sure you haven’t messed up
that bad. Like, if you’d really messed up I doubt you’d both be so sad. Unless you secretly broke up
your secret relationship?”

Adrien sat up and swallowed around a lump in his throat. “I don’t know if we are. We had a big
misunderstanding and she asked for space.”

Nino grinned. “Ah! So you’ve had the dreaded miscommunication fight? Alya had a couple of
those at the start of our relationship. You get over them, I promise. As long as you can figure out a
way to not have those miscommunications again. God and here was me thinking something really
bad had gone down like your dad had discovered your relationship and was forcing you out the
country or something.”

Adrien squirmed a little. “I think it’s more than a small miscommunication,” he admitted and
Nino’s face dropped, the grin wiped from his face and he sat up. It was nice, Adrien thought, that
someone was taking his pain seriously. “I think I just went about this whole relationship wrong
from the start, hiding in the shadows like a coward. I should have never snuck onto her balcony
and left that rose there. I should have just been straight forward with her as myself.”

He hadn’t been thinking properly when he spoke. But the words were out before he realised the
implication, before he realised he let his guard down too much.

"Uhh,” Nino frowned, leaning back. “What do you mean you shouldn't have left a rose on her
balcony? How'd you sneak up there in the first place?”

There were a number of reasons he could have suggested that would have sounded viable; her
parents let him in before she got home, he learned parkour as a teenager and put it to good use, he
was really good at throwing stuff.

But, in his blind panic, Adrien’s mind packed up shop and left for a holiday in sunny Barcelona.
So, instead he yelled, “HELICOPTER."

Nino snorted, leaning back on his chair and smiling. “Wow, how did you keep up this secret
relationship for so long? You’re such a bad liar, dude.”

Adrien sucked a breath between his teeth, leaning over the desk to glance at Nino. “Look, man, I-
can you please forget I said that? Please?”

Nino stared for a while.

“Sure,” he said eventually and, though Adrien’s shoulders sagged with relief, he got the feeling
Nino was reluctant to forget.

They ate another biscuit in silence, much more uncomfortable this time.

“If you ever want me to remember what you said though,” Nino added after a time, “I can do that.
Because here’s the thing, you and Mari are so similar. Way too similar actually. It’s like you both
go out of your way for others, you’ll do anything to help people, but will claw your own arms off
before you ask for help yourselves. So, I guess what I’m saying is, if you need a friend...yeah?”

Another wave of affection washed over Adrien. “Yeah,” he replied fondly. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Nino replied with a casual shrug. “Look I’m sure if you’re just honest about your
miscommunication, things will clear up. In the meantime, I’ll pretend I don’t know. I’m not sure
why this relationship is secretive but I can respect it. As long as you don’t hurt each other in the
process okay?”

Adrien nodded and Nino got to his feet.

“Anyways it’s late and I know you’ve still got papers to mark so I’ll leave you to it. Don’t stay too
late.”

“I won’t,” Adrien replied, also standing. “I’ll probably head to the library later, do some studying.
Mix it up.”

“Party hard every day,” Nino finger gunned and opened the door.

He was halfway out the door when Adrien placed a hand on his shoulder. “Nino, wait.”

Maybe it was how much Nino loved all of his friends, maybe it was the realisation that he was part
of that friends list now, or maybe it was simply the fact that he needed to tell someone who wasn’t
going to treat the whole thing as a joke or something that could be solved easily, but Adrien’s
resolve crumbled a second time.

Gently tugging Nino back into the room, Adrien peered out into the hallway, checking nobody was
there. When he was satisfied, he closed the door again, back pressing against it to look at Nino.

“What’s the matter?” Nino asked, confused.

Adrien felt his hands begin to shake, and placed them in between the small of his back and the door
to control it. He inhaled. "Listen. I... I have a secret ok? But I don't know if telling you will put you
in a bad spot. You've been friends with Marinette way longer than you have with me. You, Alya,
the rest of the club. Heck, even Marinette, you've all known me for less than a year. How can I just
swoop in and ruin everything with my- my secrets and lies? I don't want to cause any more
trouble."

Nino smiled. "Adrien,” he replied, “shut up and tell me what your secret is. Unless you're into
some criminal shit or something- I'm sure it's not so bad....you're not a criminal right?"

"What?” Adrien blanched. “No! I'm kinda the opposite actually. I'm Chat Noir."

"Oh, well then that's ok,” Nino said, as if he’d just heard the date of a doctor's appointment. Then,
after a five second pause, his eyes widened to the size of saucers. “WAIT WHAT"

Adrien launched forwards, pressing a finger to Nino’s lips. “Shh! Please!”

“Dude, no way! No way that’s so...wait really?” Nino took a step back and hit the desk, twisting a
little from side to side. “Why don’t you have enough space to pace?! I need to PACE!”

“So you believe me?” Adrien asked, heart squeezing painfully. It felt like he was standing on a
mountaintop, waiting to hear if the descent was clear or not. “I mean, I can show you proof too.”

“You- proof?! Show me the proof!” Nino’s mouth dropped open. “I mean- like- I believe you,
man, it totally makes sense. You look so crazy similar I don’t know how I didn’t see it before! But
yeah, show me proof.”

Adrien would have been more nervous, but there was both shock and amazement in Nino’s eyes. It
was easy to forget, sometimes, how it had felt in those early days of being Chat Noir. Taking down
Hawkmoth and the Puppetmaster had been a hard lesson in the burden of being a superhero; that
intense highs came with lows so deep he’d been certain he’d never be able to climb his way out of
them. Nino’s excitement was infectious, and made him remember how free being Chat Noir had
once made him feel. He only ever felt that nowadays when he was with Ladybug, racing over
rooftops, protecting the city as always.

So Adrien showed him the proof. He had to prod Plagg from his nap and he was sure that would
come back to bite him, possibly literally, but he didn’t mind.
As Chat Noir stood in front of an awed Nino, he couldn’t help but scratch his head awkwardly.
“So...err… ta-dah? Secret unveiled. You were half right. I am dating Marinette, in secret. But this
is the reason why, not because of my dad. She doesn’t know that I’m Adrien.”

Nino whistled low. “Dude,” he breathed. “This is heavy shit, so I’m going to lighten the mood by
saying- I’ve gotta remove you from my list.”

Well, whatever reaction he’d been expecting, that hadn’t been it. Nino looked halfway between
amused and embarrassed. A faint blush dusted his cheeks.

“Your list?” Chat inquired.

“Yeah. Alya and I both have these silly fantasy lists of people we’d be allowed to go on one date
with,” his blush got harder and Chat found himself turning red too. “She has- I mean had- she had
Ladybug on her list until about two years ago. I kept you on mine though. I have to take you off
now though. Now I know you, it’s WAY too awkward. No longer a funny fantasy.”

“Sorry?”

“Nah don’t be,” Nino shrugged. “I’ll just replace you with a Hemsworth. Thor’s pretty cute. But
you could save my sanity by changing back to Adrien now. Need my bro back, not my superhero
crush. I’m about five seconds away from swooning and really, that’s just gonna be awkward for
everyone isn’t it?”

He said it in such an exaggerated, feigned embarrassed way that Chat couldn’t help burst out
laughing, eternally grateful that his friend knew how to break the tension.

Adrien transformed back, and Plagg flew off grumbling. Nino’s eyes widened again as he watched
the kwami go back to his drawer. “I’m going to have to have a chat with him at some point.”

“Bring cheese if you want to get anything out of him,” Adrien explained, suddenly feeling
exhausted. He slipped down the door and sat on the floor with a loud sigh. Only one leg had
enough space to lie stretched out, the other he curled up towards his chest. The back of his head hit
the door.

Nino came and sat beside him with a loud exhale. “So this is definitely not what I expected
tonight.”

“What am I going to do?” Adrien pressed his lips together, closing his eyes.

“Wait, wait, wait I’m connecting the dots,” Nino replied. When Adrien opened his eyes again,
Nino had one hand on the side of his glasses and his other hand waved in the air making invisible
notes. “So you caught feelings for Marinette hard but instead of confessing as Adrien, you left a
rose for Marinette as Chat Noir. I’m guessing she caught you doing it and that’s how your
relationship started?” Adrien nodded and Nino went on. “But then you pretended to be a couple as
Adrien and Marinette, and then that fake relationship went viral… but then you had to go into
hiding because of freaking Derek. But that meant Chat Noir couldn’t meet Marinette anymore.
Which probably means SHE thinks you’re- Superhero You- is mad at her or thinks she was
cheating or something and now she’s asked you for space? Oh dude. DUDE. You are so super
fucked.”

“I promise I didn’t do any of this to trick her or anything! I’m just a coward,” he stared at his lap. “I
didn’t think she could love me. Not as Adrien. The night I went to drop the rose on her balcony, I
wanted to do it as a way to give myself closure. I thought nothing would happen. But it turns out I
saved her life once, years ago, and she’s always held a candle for me and then things just
snowballed out of control. I never, ever, wanted to hurt her. I was going to tell her when all the
Derek stuff ended but she asked for space and now I’m worried I’m too late.”

There was silence for a moment. Then Nino hit him with his hat.

“OW!” Adrien cried. “Dude what-”

“You are the most caring, lovable, likeable dude on the planet!” Nino scolded, wagging his finger
inches before Adrien’s nose. “Honestly it’s a little crazy how nice you are, considering you’re rich!
So you can stop that nonsense right now. Secondly, you have to tell her. You know that right? And
you know she’ll be ok with it.”

“How do I know that? I’ve lied to the girl I love this whole time. That’s pretty unforgivable.”

“It’s superhero identity stuff! Of course it’s all a big mess and of course she’ll understand all the
reasons you didn’t tell her. Especially if she loves you back which, judging from how you’re both
handling things right now, I’d say she does,” Nino hummed, putting his hat back on. “You could
make it a special night, a romantic one. Ask her out as Adrien or something, show her a nice time
and then tell the secret, like it was a proposal rather than a death sentence. I think your major
problem has been that you’ve been thinking of this secret as something to be ashamed of, that you-
Adrien- are something to be ashamed of. Chat Noir isn’t the only worthy part of you, man, you’re
more than worthy on your own. I bet that’s why you were chosen for the superhero job in the first
place.”

Adrien sat there, letting the words soak in. Nino was right, wasn’t he? He’d spent so long being
afraid, so long thinking Marinette would react with anger and hurt that he’d not even stopped to
consider she might react with kindness and understanding. He was so busy thinking poorly of
himself that to hear others speak of him with praise caused his world to tilt and shift. For the first
time in a long time, he began to hope.

Tears blurred his vision and he stared hard at his lap. “Thanks Nino, you’re a really good friend.”

“I’ve heard,” Nino grinned, clapping him on the back. “So, how are you going to do it?”

Adrien looked at his phone, checking the time. “Have you got some time?” he asked weakly, still
unsure, still worried, the hope was still just a seed. “I could use someone to bounce ideas off of.”

“Sure,” Nino replied. “I’ve got a bit of time.”

Ladybug couldn’t tell if the skyline was blurry, a fog descending on the night, or if her eyes were
so tired she could scarcely focus again.

She sighed, slumping against a chimney and running a hand through her hair. No, it was definitely
her brain that was cloudy. She could at least admit that to herself. Her super strength nudged her
forwards, kept her on her feet. As Marinette she could barely stand. And she knew why.

Tikki was worried, of course. Tikki was always worried. But this was the only way Ladybug could
see being able to resolve the issue. She needed to find Chat Noir and as Marinette she’d
unwittingly asked him to stay away. Of course he’d respected those wishes.

So every day since then, she had transformed into Ladybug in the vain hope she might catch him
on a rooftop wander. It didn’t matter to her that she couldn’t sleep. Sleep evaded her regardless. All
that mattered was finding Chat Noir and setting things right. Finally telling the truth. If she
couldn’t do that as Marinette right now, she would do it as Ladybug.

He hadn’t shown up once. In fact, he actively cancelled their one weekly scheduled patrol.

She knew what that meant too. He felt guilty. He only ever cancelled on her when he was feeling
bad about something, but didn’t know how to talk about it.

Ladybug teetered towards the edge of the rooftop, staring down at the traffic below before averting
her eyes. Her powers could only do so much to fend off her exhaustion, and bright lights were
especially annoying. Instead, she scanned the rooftops again. The scent of late-night waffles hit her
nose and she sighed. This was one of his favourite spots to go if he felt bad about something. The
amount of times she’d found Chat, nestled on the roof of the cafe munching on a takeaway crepe or
waffle, was numerous.

But he wasn’t here. He wasn’t anywhere. That told her he wasn’t transforming into Chat Noir as
much. Gritting her teeth and turning around, she summoned her energy and took a running leap off
the rooftop, onto the next, and further still until she got as far away from the cafe as possible.

She tried not to think about the last time he avoided being Chat Noir, the last time he’d felt so
ashamed of himself he’d tried to give up his miraculous, but her hand wandered to her abdomen
anyway. Had she really messed things up this badly? Why was he so guilty that he was avoiding
even Ladybug? Was he ashamed of the way he’d treated her as Marinette? Or was there something
more urgent going on, something greater and more important than their relationship, which was
taking him away from his duties?

Ladybug was a fixer. It was in her nature to look for solutions to complex problems and solve
them, usually in the context of taking down villains. But this? This she couldn’t see a way to fix.
She couldn’t find Chat Noir and confess to everything if he was avoiding her as both Ladybug and
Marinette. And the longer this went on, the greater her anxieties grew. What if they’d ruined this?
What if they’d spent so long saving others that they were now beyond saving themselves?

When, at last, she reached the rooftop adjacent to her house, she finally stopped running. Instead
she stared over at her balcony, where it had all begun.

Even if someone had asked how she felt then, staring at the scene of her greatest joy and greatest
crime, she wouldn’t have been able to say. Tiredness was emotion, right?

She leapt onto the balcony and de-transformed, collapsing into her chair with a sigh.

“Marinette, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Tikki chided softly, nuzzling into the spot
between Marinette’s neck and shoulder. “I can feel you weakening every time you transform. What
if something or someone attacks the city and you have to fight when you’re like this?”

Marinette winced. Her heart felt like a stone in her chest but she could not cry. She was too
exhausted to cry. “I know Tikki, but every time I try to sleep my mind races with possibilities.
What I could do, what I should do. All of the scenarios that could play out and how I could deal
with every one of them. Then I start to think about the lack of sleep and how it might start
affecting my studies and then all of the possibilities that might happen from THAT. My brain just
feels like it wants to explode.”

Tikki thought to herself for a minute, nuzzling closer. The gesture reminded Marinette of that
Valentine’s day night what now seemed like years ago. What would she do, now, if given the
chance? Would she have told him her identity outright? Would she have waited? There had been so
many chances to make the right decision, to be honest, and she had squandered all of them.

Marinette wasn’t usually one for self-hatred. She was often the first to try and own her mistakes, to
apologise and make them right. And, whilst she was trying to do that now, the self-hatred at how
long it had taken her, at how badly she could have ruined this, was growing at an alarming rate.

“You know,” Tikki mused. “He does love you. You remember? He said so. And you know Chat
Noir better than anyone else. What did your note say?”

Marinette didn’t want to say, didn’t want to remember the stupid drunken words she wrote. “I asked
him for space.”

“Exactly!” Tikki replied encouragingly, her whole body bobbing up and down. “He loves you, and
he’s going to give you space, respectfully, because you asked for it. But you know he’ll come back
soon. He came back once, he’ll do it again. I’m sure this is all one big misunderstanding. I know
you’re worried you messed up, I know you don’t want to lose him, but you have to be patient now,
and not panic. Stop trying to force it or you could do more damage.”

Marinette sighed, her whole body slumping down even further. A part of her, the more neurotic
fixer part, wanted to ignore Tikki and carry on with her pointless nighttime searches. But Tikki was
right. If she kept this up, she was going to do more harm than good. In all areas.
“I guess I just have to trust it will turn out ok, right?” she said, objectivity washing over her. Tikki’s
cold, hard facts were a much-needed balm and she sighed.

“Sitting back and waiting for things to happen is hard for any superhero!” Tikki smiled. “You can
do it though. Like I said. He loves you. He’ll come back, and you can both get the answers you
need.”

Silence fell as Marinette turned the words over in her mind. Patience. Love. Trust.

Answers.

“Why don’t we go to bed?”

She didn’t realise she’d buried her head in her hands until Tikki spoke. Glancing up into the kind
kwami’s eyes, Marinette felt a cold dose of reality wash over her. What the hell was she doing?
She was worrying everyone. Most people who didn’t know her, she could fool. But her parents
she’d been able to avoid enough to keep the heat off. Alya, Nino and Tikki, she couldn’t escape
from. They knew her well enough to see through her fake smiles.

“I can’t. I have to study. I have a paper due for fashion history class,” she replied, trying to
brighten, trying to do better, if not for herself then at least for the people who cared about her. “I
think once I get past that I’ll be able to relax a bit. Just a bit.”

“Well how about this?” Tikki replied after musing for a little while, “how about we go back to
your campus library and have a good old-fashioned study session? Maybe spending time away
from your room will do you good!”

Marinette smiled, her first true smile in days. “That sounds perfect.”

The campus was strangely empty. Fallen leaves danced around her feet, caught in the breeze
between the university buildings. As she made her way towards the library, Marinette watched
them go, lost in her own thoughts. For once, however, they weren’t on Chat Noir. Tikki’s
suggestion had worked wonders. Along with the slight chill which stung her cheeks, the idea of
having a late night study session had managed to shift her focus.

She loved the school library. It hadn’t quite beaten her lifelong favourite spot in Paris, the
Trocadero, but it was close. The library was surprising; a boringly old-fashioned building became a
hodgepodge of modern and interestingly old-fashioned design the second you walked in. Glass
elevators were set amongst ceiling-to-floor bookshelves holding dusty old tomes. Study rooms with
intricate 19th century wallpaper oversaw shiny brass lamps and computers. The latest book-
searching tech met its match with the oldest librarians the world had ever known. Students often
said that the librarians had been there since the time of the Bastille.

Marinette felt a sense of calm there, and not just because of the silence. Here was a place so old yet
so modern. Full of wonderful contradictions and secrets, and she couldn’t help but feel connected
to it for that reason above all else.

“Marinette?”

At the sound of the voice behind her, Marinette’s hand froze before it reached the door handle. Her
ears were deceiving her, right? There was no way- no way…
She wheeled around and came face-to-face with Adrien.

Breathing out a puff of air and mentally chiding herself (she really needed to get some sleep if she
was mixing Adrien’s voice with Chat Noir’s) she smiled at her friend. Her hand dropped back to
her side and she turned away from the library towards him instead.

For the briefest of moments, she was caught off guard again. Adrien looked ruffled, but in the best
kind of way. His hair was slightly mussed, probably because he’d run his hand through his hair.
Marinette knew he did it when he was stressed, nervous or frustrated. The collar of his perfectly
tailored peacoat was suitably rumpled, like it had been tossed over the back of a chair for hours. If
it weren’t for the tired, dazed look in his eyes, she might have accused him of walking right off of a
fashion shoot.

He loves you, an evil, mean, cruel voice piped up, immediately making heat flood to her face. He
told you himself, even if he didn’t know it.

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP, another part of her mind yelled back.

“Hey Adrien! We missed you at Gaming Club tonight!” she said, a little louder than normal, as if
she could force those thoughts out of her mind by yelling. Yes she’d been worried about him not
showing up, but Nino had said he’d check up on him after the club had finished and he’d messaged
her saying Adrien really was swamped with work, so that had been a relief. “Did you get caught up
with your work at least?”

Adrien blinked, shaking his head like he was trying to force himself out of a daydream. “I, um,
yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah I got caught up with a good amount of marking. Still have lots of
studying to do too.”

“Yeah I’m super behind on a paper,” Marinette sighed, the mask of her forced cheer slipping under
his scrutiny. Why was he looking at her like that? Like she was some sort of ghost? She had to
fight to keep her voice steady as she continued. “I was going to pull a late-nighter to try and get it
finished.”

“I was going to study too but, you know, I can go if you want?” Adrien asked, jerking his shoulder
back like he was about to leave.

Marinette frowned. “What? Why? I don’t own the library! Of course you can study at the same
time as me, silly!” she started giggling but when Adrien’s mirth didn’t match hers, she realised he
was serious and her face dropped.

“I know but-” he protested whilst Marinette connected the dots. Not showing up at the Gaming
Club, leaving the library when he saw she was going there too...

“Adrien, are you avoiding me?” The idea struck her at once, and was far more painful than she
expected it to be. She didn’t want him to avoid her. Not ever. “Because if I’ve done something to
upset you, I’m sorry. Was it the hospital? I know I’m weird with hospitals.”

“What? No! No of course not!” Adrien replied with more passion than she expected. He stepped
back, flustered, “Um, Alya told me you had a- an accident a couple of years ago? I know you don’t
like them and I’d NEVER be mad at you for that. I didn’t think anything like it. I’m not- I’m not
avoiding you?”

Marinette stepped back herself, running a hand down her face and sighing. What was she doing,
accusing Adrien of something so horrible for no reason? Was she determined to push away
everyone she cared about?

“Are you...ok?” he continued, tentatively.

She looked up and Adrien had stepped closer to her, the light from the streetlamps catching his
pretty eyes, his lovely jawline, and Marinette wanted to fall into the Seine again. It would be easier
than tearing her gaze away from him.

“Honestly, Adrien? No. No I’m not. I’m super stressed right now,” she admitted with another sigh,
shoulders slumping. “For lots of reasons.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I get it. I’m stressed too.”

Marinette felt a little smile, a warm sense of comfort at his sympathy. If his words had been in the
mouth of any other guy, she might have accused him of being patronising. But she knew he’d
never intend them to be that way. “Then let's be stressed together. Study sesh?”

Finally Adrien smiled back. It was small, shy, and did funny things to her chest which she refused
to acknowledge, but it was there.

He bowed, arm outstretched towards the library door. “Lead the way.”

The study session was a disaster.

At least for Adrien.

At this time of night, the library was fairly quiet, and they’d found their own little table in the
corner of the third floor, out of the way of the painful fluorescent lights. The lamps there were
softer on the eyes, reflecting more comfortably on the books spread out on the table before them.

Adrien clicked away on his laptop, making notes to add to his research project. Across the table,
Marinette was jotting her own notes in a pretty notebook with an inexpensive fountain pen. When
asked, she said it was easier for her to remember dates and names if she physically wrote them
down.

And there was the problem exactly. Marinette. She was far too distracting. Every few minutes,
Adrien’s concentration broke and he glanced at her, taking her in; the little crinkle in between her
eyebrows as she read, the press of her lips as she wrote, the flicker of her eyelashes as she glanced
from one medium to the other.

Despite the fact that he’d written pages of notes, he couldn’t remember a single damn sentence.

I should have been an artist, he thought, or a photographer.

She must have sensed him staring because her eyes met his and she smiled.

Adrien panicked and shoved his face back toward his laptop screen.

His mind was burning. His fingers itched to reach out and hold her. His tongue was pressed to the
roof of his mouth in an effort not to blurt out the truth and ruin the plan Nino and he concocted.
Adrien sighed, trying to remember the reasons why he wasn’t telling her the truth right now:

She’d asked for space. He was already breaking that rule on a technicality and didn’t want to push
it.

If he told her right now, it would seem manipulative. His plan was set to take place in about a
week, when he’d given her the time she’d needed.

The kidnapping, and the threats against Marinette too, were still fresh, still raw. He didn’t want
what would hopefully be a happy moment to be tainted by all of that mess. Nino had opened his
eyes to the fact that this should be a good revelation, not a shameful one, and it needed an event
fitting of that. He did need to apologise for concealing the truth, but not for who he was under the
mask.

Adrien felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and looked up from his laptop to find Marinette
watching him. As soon as their eyes met again, she squeaked and shoved her face in her library
book, the tip of her ears going pink.

And Adrien almost keeled over from how cute she was. Did he have a plan? Ah screw the plan. He
wanted to kiss her RIGHT NOW.

A mental image of Nino slapping his around the head and yelling “get it together, man!” flashed
in his mind and he shoved those impulses right back down.

Marinette yawned, closing her notebook and stretching. “I think I’ve done all I can here. What
about you? Ready to call it quits?”

With a quick nod, Adrien saved his work and closed his laptop. “It’s late though,” he replied. “Are
you going to be ok getting home? Nino told me the Metro wasn’t running properly today.”

In the middle of packing her things away, Marinette gave a bit of a start. “Yeah,” she drawled,
elongating her syllables. “The metro was down… which is why I took the bus. Oh but I guess the
one I need isn’t running now? Don’t worry, I can walk!” she shrugged cheerfully.

“You can come with me if you want,” Adrien said, balking at the idea of her walking the dark
streets at night after everything that had recently happened. “My driver can swing by your house.”

“Oh I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Marinette replied softly, rummaging in her bag with a pout.
Picking up her bag, she put it on the table and began searching deeper, almost shoving her head
inside. “I’m sure I’ll be fine- DAMN IT!”

One of the ancient libraries, of course, was walking by as Marinette cursed. She gasped and
brought a crooked finger to her lips, glowering as she shushed them. And, although he’d fought
major villains in his lifetime including his own father, Adrien still found himself terrified to his
core.

Sinking down, Marinette mouthed back an apology and the ancient librarian was appeased. Once
she’d disappeared between the shelves again, Marinette slumped back in her chair. “I can’t find my
keys. I think I left them at home.”

Ah. That was a problem. “Can you call your parents?”

Marinette shook her head. “They’ll already be in bed. I don’t want to wake them up. I’ll text Alya, I
can probably crash at hers.”

Maybe it was his innate protectiveness, maybe he didn’t want the night to end, or maybe he wanted
to stay as close to Marinette as possible. Whatever the reason, Adrien’s next words flew out of his
mouth before he could stop them.
“You could stay at my place.”

Like two puppies in the middle of a playfight, the pair of them froze instantly, waiting for the other
to move first.

In the end, it was Adrien who caved, and it was almost instantaneous. “I mean of course you don’t
have to if you’re more comfortable with Alya! It was just a suggestion because I was going to drive
you home and everything, you know?”

“Adrien,” Marinette replied gently, looking at him in a strange way. He couldn’t put a finger on it,
but he was certain she had been acting differently around him recently. “That’s really kind of you.
Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Adrien couldn’t think of anything he’d minded less in his entire life. Besides kissing her. But
instead of saying so, he simply pulled out his own phone, shook his head and replied, “I’ll call my
driver.”

The Parisian lights filtered by as Adrien’s driver took them back to his apartment. Even at the late
hour, on a weekday, people were out and about. Groups of friends strolled down streets to the
nearest bar, shopkeepers waved at each other as they cleaned their porches, drunken tourists were
wandering around butchering the French language.

Marinette didn’t see any of it. She was too busy on the phone.

Marinette: ALYA WTF AM I DOING?! I’m going back to ADRIEN’S APARTMENT

because I lost my keys!!!! HELP!!!

Alya sent back an eggplant emoji, followed by a wink emoji.

Marinette: ALYA YOU’RE KILLING ME!!! It’s not like that!!!! Do you think he asked me
back because of THAT?! I CAN’T DO THAT!

Alya: I mean, historically speaking, you CAN. You mean you won’t lol

Marinette: ALYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Marinette then proceeded to send a number of crying emojis.

Alya: Ok ok jeez calm down I was only kidding…

Alya: So you lost your keys and he’s offered to have you stay at his place for the night?
Sounds like Adrien. He’s a good guy and I’m sure he’s not doing it to take advantage.

Marinette: Ok but what if I’m taking advantage of HIM?!?!!?

Alya: …..

Alya: Wot

Marinette: Adrien is IN LOVE WITH ME, Alya! Am I taking advantage of his love by
staying the night? And what about Chat? I’m staying over at a guys apartment- but not just
any guy. The guy most of the world thinks I’m DATING!!!! What if someone snaps a picture
of us and uploads it online AGAIN and Chat sees before I have a chance to see
him...AGAIN?!

Alya: You know, sometimes I really do wonder what it’s like to live in your head. It must be
fascinating.

Marinette: It’s mainly a lot of screaming

Alya: Yeah I can buy that.

Alya: But honestly? You asked Chat for space and he’ll give you space. Then you can sort out
your shit with him, as messy as it all is. You know I’m still rooting for you both.

Marinette: Thanks xx

Alya: As for Adrien, I admit that this has thrown a spanner in the works. I love Adrien and
don’t want him to get hurt either. So just… be careful? Unless…

Marinette: Unless what?

Alya: Are you catching feelings for Adrien?

Marinette: What?! NO! I mean…

Alya sent a bunch of looking emojis.

Marinette: It’s messed with my head ok? I guess I can admit that. Adrien is so kind and
sweet, and things are so much less complicated with him than with Chat. With Chat there’s
all this baggage and fear and secrets and with Adrien around, I just feel… calm I guess? At
ease??? Idk. He makes me feel at peace. Safe.

Marinette: But no matter what Adrien makes me feel, and no matter how much his
accidental confession has effed with my head, it doesn’t matter. I’m not bringing him into
this mess. Especially after what’s just happened with his KIDNAPPING!

Alya: Yeah. Poor guy doesn’t need to be roped into all of you Chat Noir stuff. No offense btw
xxx

Marinette: Nono I totally agree. I need to figure out what's happening with Chat Noir. Best
case scenario we can reveal identities and be together for real, a true fresh start. Adrien
would move on from me, I know that. He’s so gorgeous and talented, he’ll have no trouble
finding love.

Alya: But...ok I know you like to freak out. But what happens if things with Chat Noir don’t
work out? Would you go with Adrien then?

Marinette bit her lip, trying to ignore the ice-cold grip of panic at her throat.

Marinette: I’m not sure. Adrien deserves better than that. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone
for a while. The idea of things not working out with Chat… it’s too horrible to think about.
What would that mean for our partnership? What would that mean for us as a team? Would
we have to stop being superheroes? I think the fallout would be so terrible, there’s no way I’d
want to jump into a new relationship for a long, long, LOOOONG time. Adrien shouldn’t
wait around for me forever. By the time I’m ready, he might have already moved on and
that’s ok.

Alya: You’re right. I think that’s a really good take tbh. As long as you’re all happy, that’s
what matters the most to me <3

Marinette: Yeah.

Alya: I guess Adrien is one of those “in another life” kinda things.

Marinette: I guess so.

Alya: Not living up to the Tragic French Romance stereotype AT ALLLLL there girl lol.

Marinette: Hahaha oh so funny

Alya: My wit is as powerful as your fashion skills.

Marinette chuckled, sending Alya a gif of someone laughing as she felt the car slow down to a
stop. Adrien, who was on the other side of the car, unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to her.
“We’re here.”

Cringing at her own rudeness, Marinette sent a quick goodbye text to Alya and grabbed her bag.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to text the whole way here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien replied, gesturing to his driver, who looked like he was about to get
out of the car. At Adrien’s silent insistence, the driver stayed put and Adrien got out by himself.

Thoroughly confused by the short exchange, Marinette gathered her bag and said a thanks to the
driver. She was about to open the door herself when Adrien opened it for her, leaning in and
offering his hand to her.

Her first instinct was to want to tease him at how old-fashioned he was being (in a cute way of
course) and totally ignore how flustered she was. Then she remembered who’d raised him, and
how Emilie Agreste was all about manners, how elegantly old-school she was, and her heart
melted. So instead of teasing, she accepted his hand and allowed him to gently guide her from the
car and onto the street just below his apartment building.

It took her a few moments to realise she was staring before she pulled her hand away from his,
instead flicking it up to the ribbons in her hair. Despite not being green, she still felt guilty.

Adrien’s eyes followed her hands, his expression unreadable, before turning to his apartment
building and ushering her inside.

“Welcome to my place!” Adrien uttered cheerfully as he opened the front door of his apartment,
wondering why he needed to announce it like a 1950s newscaster.

It was fairly understated, as far as luxury apartments go. His mother had helped him find a way to
incorporate the crisp, modern style he preferred without completely ruining the natural aesthetic
that came with the historic build. Neutral, earthy tones kept the place clean yet warm. High
ceilings and windows let in the natural light so wonderfully that Adrien wished he saw more of it in
daylight hours. The doors in his kitchen let out to a small balcony, where the Eiffel Tower shone
just beyond. In the end, he was pretty proud that it didn’t look like a typical bachelor pad… except
for his room.

But Marinette wasn’t going to see the floor-drobe, so it was fine.

Even so, despite being happy with his own place, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Hence, the
1950’s newscaster voice.

“Thanks chief,” Marinette replied back in a voice to match his own, offering a cute little salute as
she stepped into the foyer.

After putting their shoes and coats away, Adrien led her to the main room. The living room was the
largest room in the house and was open-plan with the kitchen, only an island separating the two.
Having a kitchen and a living room combined was a bit unusual for a luxury apartment, people
usually liked to keep them separate, but Adrien loved it. Since moving out on his own, he found
that he’d enjoyed cooking his own meals. It meant he could still cook and watch TV too, which
was always a bonus, on the rare occasion he had a free enough night to watch TV anyway.

Adrien didn’t know why his heart was beating so loudly against his ribcage. He watched Marinette
walk towards his bookcases, which framed the large TV, and begin searching his anime collection.
It wasn’t because he was expecting anything to happen, far from it in fact, but there was something
about having Marinette here, in his home.

“Nice piano by the way!” she chirped, gesturing to the grand in the corner.

“Thanks,” he rasped back, his tongue drier than dust on a disused keyboard.

He’d once watched a nature documentary where the male birds build nests for potential partners. It
was supposed to be a sign of their suitability. Once they’d spent hours and hours building their
nests, they would sit and wait to be scrutinised by potential mates, to see if they would be accepted.

And Adrien couldn’t help but empathise with those poor little birds. Watching Marinette float
around the room, stare out at the windows to the view, a small smile on her face, he wanted to
scream “DO YOU LIKE IT?” “DOES IT FEEL LIKE HOME?!” “STAY WITH ME HERE
FOREVER!”

He forced his tongue to the roof of his mouth and made his way over his fridge. “Drink?” he asked
in a strangled voice.

“Sure!” Marinette replied from behind him. Following him towards the kitchen area, she pulled out
a stool and sat on it. “What have you got?”

Not much, Adrien realised with a grimace. What good was a nest- HOME- if it didn’t have suitable
drinks?!

“Milk,” he said flatly.

Marinette burst out laughing.

“Whew! And there was me wondering how a bachelor ends up with such a lovely looking first
apartment with nothing out of place,” she giggled. “Nino’s first apartment, before he moved in with
Alya, was just covered with beer cans and mould.”
Although Adrien was blushing, he couldn’t help but laugh along with her. “Yeah I guess because I
haven’t been here in a while, things like groceries sort of fell to the wayside,”

Marinette’s face dropped. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I should have thought about that.”

“No! No please don’t worry,” Adrien hastened to reassure her, not wanting the mood to fall.
“Besides I think my parents sent groceries over. There are a couple of wine bottles in the rack if
you want them? They’re not chilled though.”

“Eh neither am I,” Marinette shrugged, earning another chuckle from him as Adrien rummaged
through the cupboards. “But maybe skip the wine, as blasphemous as that is to say.”

“I have hot chocolate!” he replied triumphantly, spinning around just in time to see Marinette’s
eyes light up and for her to give a winning nod.

Once Adrien had made two full mugs, they sat on the sofa and settled in watching the anime
movies Marinette had spotted on his shelf.

Both of them sat on the opposite sides of the sofa.

Despite the fact that he hadn’t seen some of these movies since he was a teenager, and remembered
them fondly, Adrien couldn’t concentrate. Instead, he kept stealing glances at Marinette. With the
lights low, and the screen on, she’d tucked herself into a corner sipping her hot chocolate, and
finally let her guard down.

She seemed so… tired.

Not for the first time Adrien wanted to reach out and hold her, to soothe the lines of sadness her
lips made, to make all her troubles disappear. But he suspected he was no small part of her
troubles, and didn’t wish to compound them. He had a plan. He’d stick to it. Keeping the distance,
respectfully staying away, just like she’d asked him to.

But when the credits rolled, Marinette sighed. Her mug was already discarded on the coffee table.

“Can I ask you something? It’s sort of a silly question,” she said, fiddling with her red ribbons and
shifting towards him, closing the gap.

Before he could stop himself, Adrien copied her actions. “Of course,” he replied because it was
less damning than saying anything.

“What do you think of these?” she asked, gesturing to her ribbons, and Adrien’s heart grew cold. “I
know I used to wear green ones all the time but before that I used to wear these ones most of the
time. Someone at the Gaming Club said I seem happier when I’m wearing green ribbons, almost
like they’re a lucky charm. I guess their words have- like- I don’t know, stuck with me. So what do
you think?”

To any outside observer, the question seemed totally innocent. But Adrien knew better. He knew
what she meant, he knew of the secrets between her words. The fact that she had no idea who he
really was, that he was the reason she wore green ribbons, made the situation that much more
delicate.

Because he could tell her the truth. He could tell her he loved her green ribbons, that he felt
honoured that she chose to wear one of his signature colours, that it was one of the funnest,
sweetest parts of their secret relationship. She’d once told him that it was so he could spot her in a
crowd, if he ever ran into her as his civilian self.
Little did she know, he’d always notice her, with or without the ribbons.

His hands shook and Adrien busied himself with placing his mug on the coffee table to hide it. “I
think,” he said honestly. “I think you should wear whatever makes you happiest.”

And that was the real truth, the one he wanted her to focus on the most. Yes he wanted to be with
her, yes he missed her green ribbons but, more than anything in the world, he wanted her to do
whatever made her happiest.

Marinette nodded, leaning back against the sofa, and Adrien set up their next film. When he sat
down, he found himself closer to her again and cursed himself inwardly.

BE RESPECTFUL! KEEP. YOUR. DISTANCE, he yelled at himself as the opening credits popped
up.

Eventually, he relaxed, trying to focus on the film. But, like an infant, the effects of the warm hot
chocolate began to take hold and he found himself slipping in-and-out of focus. Unlike the first
movie, Adrien decided not to focus on Marinette this time. He didn’t want to get caught and come
across creepy.

He blinked and suddenly it was dark.

The TV screen had turned off and Adrien’s head swam with confusion. Then, as his consciousness
grew, he realised he must have fallen asleep. That was a usual occurrence.

What wasn’t usual, however, was the warm weight at his side.

He glanced down and Marinette was right there, curled up next to him. Both of them must have
nodded off, and found a way to each other. In the night, Adrien’s arms had fallen over her
protectively. Her head gently rested on the little nook between his shoulder and chest.

Unable to help himself, he sighed with content and allowed himself a few moments to enjoy this.
His heartstrings tugged painfully as he came to realise that, no matter what happened to them as a
pair, this would always be where he belonged. Right here, holding the girl he loved.

He hoped the Gala would turn out ok. He hoped they could once again do something like this, with
no more secrets.

But he had to be patient. Love was a marathon, not a sprint.

After letting himself have a few more minutes of the blissful embrace, Adrien ended the waking
dream and quietly slid both himself and Marinette off the sofa. Holding her in his arms he lifted her
up and took her to his bedroom, amazed she was still completely out. The guest quarters were
upstairs and fairly out of the way. He didn’t want her to wake up and worry about where she was.

Laying her down on his bed, he fought every urge not to join her. Instead he placed her phone by
her side and popped it in his charger so it wouldn’t run out of battery, and then kicked his floor-
drobe under his bed so she wouldn’t wake up to the mess.

It was as he was charging her phone that he spotted it on his bedside table. The lucky charm
Marinette had given him for their anniversary.

Adrien pocketed it, relieved he’d been able to see it in the dark and that she didn’t discover it upon
waking. That would have led to some awkward questions to say the least.
He was about to go when Marinette shuffled in her sleep, restless.

So Adrien turned back to her. Leaning down, he stroked some of the hairs from her face and,
before he realised what he was doing, he kissed her forehead softly.

“Goodnight princess,” he whispered.

Marinette hummed in her sleep. “‘Night, Kitty.”

Adrien didn’t know whether to smile or cry.

The early morning light kissed her eyelids and Marinette stirred, awoken by it. A familiar,
comforting scent surrounded her and she buried herself deeper in the blankets.

Her mind felt thick with sleep as she roused from the best night of it she’d had in days. Although it
took her longer to gather her bearings than usual. Memories flooded her of the previous night, but
she couldn’t quite recall falling asleep. Nor could she remember how she found her way to bed.
She assumed Adrien must have taken her, which was sweet of him.

Wiggling her toes she stretched her hands above her head and let out a yawn, then squeaked in
surprise when Tikki popped up between the blankets and her chest.

“Glad to see you finally slept!” the kwami chuckled and there was a strange glint in her eyes which
Marinette, in her sleepy state, couldn’t put her finger on. The little smile playing at Tikki’s mouth
was playful, like she knew something Marinette didn't.

Deciding not to dwell on it too much, Marinette sat up and shuffled away from the blankets
reluctantly. It was so warm and cosy, and she’d dreamt Chat Noir was kissing her back to sleep. “I
guess hot chocolate solves everything,” she replied, fingers brushing her forehead.

It didn’t take her long to find her phone, plugged in and fully charged, on the bedside table. She
grasped it, touched that Adrien had thought of everything. Not for the first time, butterflies
fluttered through her stomach and up past her lungs.

She shoved them right back down again, grabbing her metaphorical insecticide and killing them
one by one. She could NOT have butterflies about Adrien, no matter how sweet and kind he was. It
wasn’t fair on any of them.

After using the ensuite to clean herself up, Tikki snuck off to hide in her bag, and Marinette opened
the bedroom door. Following the soft sound of music, she managed to find her way back to the
living room.

Adrien was in the kitchen, brewing some coffee, and the sounds of soft piano jazz filled the air.
The bags on the table indicated he’d run out to a corner grocery shop. A cutting board rested on the
counter, with eggs and chives resting on top. She watched as Adrien moved the eggs away and
began cutting the chives, his sleeves rolled up, showing his forearms.

Marinette allowed herself to take in the sight before her, torn.

You could have this, a small, horrible part of her whispered before she plucked that thought and
chucked it out of the beautiful ceiling-high windows.

She shook her head and strolled forwards. “Morning!”

“Morning!” Adrien spun around with a smile. “I’m making omelettes if that’s ok? I remembered
you eating one the time we all went to brunch. Coffee’s almost done if you want some too.”

“Love some,” she replied, hopping back onto the same stall she sat on last night. “And omelettes
sound great. Need some help?”

“Of course not, you’re my guest,” Adrien tutted, a playful glint in his eyes. He waved a whisk
towards her as he picked up eggs and she batted it away with a chuckle. There was something
unguarded about him in the mornings which Marinette liked. He was cheekier, freer. Sometimes he
would get that way in Gaming Club, but he’d always catch himself and reign it back again. There
was none of that reservation here.

Plus the cowlick hair at the back of his head was really cute and she found herself entertained with
the fact he hadn’t yet noticed it.

“Well omelette late to breakfast, which is a relief,” Marinette teased.

Adrien laughed, pouring her a mug of coffee and sliding it her way. “True, but we better crack on
if we want to get to classes on time,”

“I might whisk it,” Marinette countered, taking a sip of her coffee. It was smooth and, of course,
expensive tasting, “Egg-specially as I don’t have lessons until the afternoon today.”

“Oooh two-puns-in-one! Nice,” Adrien shot her two finger guns as he set to work on the omelettes.

They continued punning back-and-forth until Adrien had finished the omelettes and the two ate in
companionable silence, on opposite sides of the island. Marinette was surprised that he could cook
(and cook well) given the fact that he was wealthy enough to have his own chef, but she decided
not to ask about it. She didn’t want to appear rude.

“I bought pastries too,” Adrien replied and suddenly, the mood shifted. Marinette had no idea why
he seemed so nervous, but the cheeky smile was replaced with a small, shy one instead. He glanced
at her, then away, with a soft blush. Getting up, he moved a basket of pastries onto their breakfast
counter. “They probably aren’t as good as your parent’s ones, but they’re there in case you want
some.”

Marinette, who’d already finished the omelette, grabbed a pastry straight away. “All pastries are
good pastries but none are as good as my parent’s ones, so that makes them equal in a way,” she
joked.

But the joking manner of her words didn’t last long. Glancing over at Adrien, she couldn’t help but
feel a rush of fondness for him. “Thank you.”

Adrien shrugged, bashfully munching his own pastry. “It was nothing, really.”

“No it is, it’s a lot,” Marinette replied earnestly. She reached up and touched her ribbons, glancing
out of the window. “I’ve been really… really stressed out recently. So thank you for helping me
get out of my own head. This has been so nice.”

Their eyes met across the counter, and Marinette felt an unwelcome heat climbing her face. What
was it with her and green eyes? Did she really have that much of a type?

Adrien turned away, picking up their plates and putting them in the sink. Gone was the happy, free,
relaxed Adrien who made their omelettes. His shoulders tensed, his hands were jittery as he rinsed
their places. “Of course,” he said, his voice quiet. “You’re welcome back here anytime you know.
It’s nice to have some company.”

Marinette had no idea what to make of the sudden change, so she took a sip of her coffee and
hummed in approval instead.

Adrien took a deep breath. Placing their plates in the dishwasher, he cleaned his hands and
suddenly stood like a soldier, facing towards her with a slight look of panic. “I have tickets,” he
garbled.

Frowning, Marinette tilted her head to one side. “Tickets to?” she encouraged kindly. Then she
realised what was happening.

Tickets?!

He has tickets to something?!

And he’s telling me about it?!

Oh no, oh no, oh god no don’t do it Adrien. Please don’t force me to turn you down. I don’t want
to turn down the guy who dove in front of a bullet for me, without powers to save him.

Adrien cleared his throat and looked away from her again. “Yeah, I have these tickets to a gala. It
was meant to be part of the fashion show I was going to do but obviously that got cancelled
because of… well you know. But my parents helped to reorganise it as a sort of fashion charity
event. I bought four tickets and Nino told me that you’ve been having a hard time, and I know you
like fashion, so I just wondered if you’d like to come? Alya and Nino are going to be there too.
And my friend Chloe, who you haven’t met but I think you’ll like her.”

It was clearly a practiced speech, one he’d spent time on, and Marinette didn’t want to seem
ungrateful. Downing the last few dregs of her coffee, she clung onto the cup like her life depended
on it.

“Adrien,” she sighed, hardly bearing to look at him. “That sounds lovely. I’m sure I would like
it…” she trailed off.

He picked up where she left off. “But?”

Her heart grew hot and painful at the sound of his utterly crestfallen voice. Still, she had to do it,
she had to address the elephant in the room. “Adrien,” she breathed, closing her eyes for a moment,
then staring at him because damn it he deserved that much from her. “The whole world thinks
we’re dating.”

Adrien’s mouth dropped open in shock. It would have been cute and funny, had the situation not
been so serious. “Oh.”

“Y-yeah,” she stammered. Trying to make her way through this awkwardness was like wading
through a corn maze filled with custard. She bit her lip, shoulders shrugging up towards her ears in
embarrassment. “When the photos first came out, it wasn’t so bad because you went into hiding,
and my friends and campus security kept most of the reporters away. But my parents had a lot of
nosy reporters asking after me and I don’t want them to get harassed again. Now everyone’s
distracted by Derek’s trial and your kidnapping. But all of that stuff about our fake relationship is
going to come out again and more if I show up as your date to this fancy gala.”

That plus the fact that if Chat Noir saw photos of her there, it would probably be the final nail in
the coffin for their already fragile relationship. But she didn’t say that part out loud.

She could hardly stand it any longer. Torn on this precipice between superhero and civilian, love
and duty, desire and companionship. Why did she constantly feel like she had to choose one or the
other? It was like picking between food or water, light and dark. Choosing one and not having the
other would always leave her a little empty, unbalanced, unsatisfied.

Only the slight sound of a chair scraping gave Marinette an indication that Adrien had moved back
to his seat. She didn’t realise she’d turned away, didn’t realise the tears filling her eyes, until he
reached over and covered one of her hands with his own, both of them now resting on her empty
coffee cup. “Hey,” he said softly, “hey, it’s ok. I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that. Not that I didn’t
think about that, I mean us two fake- fake dating, I did think about that… I thought about it a lot
actually. Not like! Not like I thought about it. I just, you know, thought about it. I had my phone
taken away from me at the time so I couldn’t call and check on you. I was really worried about
you. I wanted to call and make sure you were ok but I couldn’t and oh my god why am I so bad at
this?”

He leaned across the counter, face-down, his head in his hands and his fingers burying into his
hair.

Unable to help the soft chuckle from her lips, Marinette shook her own head. The temptation to
reach out and grab his hands, to comfort him through touch, was almost too much. She gripped her
empty mug tighter, fighting her instincts, as she didn’t want to send him mixed signals. “It’s
alright,” she soothed. “You know I don’t blame you for any of it. You were only looking out for
me, trying to help get Derek away from me, which proved to be good foresight if you think about
it. And you couldn’t exactly help that you went into hiding and couldn’t check up on me.”

From his lowered spot closer towards the countertop, Adrien glanced up at her, his eyes wide and
earnest. It was too much for her heart. She tore her eyes away. “I hope you all enjoy the gala
though, it sounds like a wonderful time.”

She really wanted to go. A fancy charity gala where she could meet Adrien’s childhood friend? She
and Alya could dress up and giggle about who has the silliest rich-person name, she could meet
other designers and maybe even get a few tips from them, even show off a dress she made. Like
Cinderella, she was beginning to fantasise about the evening, about what a dream it would all seem
like…

But unlike Cinderella, this was a ball Marinette was destined never to go to.

“Ok, how about this,” Adrien replied. “How about I ask my family PR team to release a statement
denying our relationship? PR teams do that all the time, and do it convincingly. And if I send you
the tickets, you can come to the Gala separately from me. You could show up with Alya and Nino.
My parents will probably want me to go with them at first anyways. Then, once you’re inside,
there’s no press. It’s a bit like the Met Gala in that way. What do you think?”

What did she think? Marinette couldn’t think at all. Firstly, why hadn’t she considered that Adrien
would have his own PR team? Of course he would! Secondly, she was so moved that Adrien
would do all of that for her… but she knew the reason. She knew it was because he loved her.

Guilt began to consume her.

“It would be good for all of us to hang out in a different context,” she tried, cautiously, because it
was easier than asking him if she was his date or not. From what she could tell, though, it didn’t
seem like a date. But his nervousness was throwing her off.

Adrien nodded. “I’ve actually been wanting to invite all you guys to a fun event like this for a
while. Usually these rich stuffy parties are boring as hell. But a gala is a chance to be more
expressive with your fashion and, because the press aren’t inside, the celebrities especially let loose
and you can see some pretty funny stuff. It’s sort of like what happens at the gala stays at the gala
though.”

His words soothed her and she leaned back in her chair. The guilt ebbed, as she realised he really
wasn’t asking her out on a date. In fact, he was doing everything in his power to make it appear the
opposite, all so her and her family wouldn’t be harassed by the media.

“Alright,” she nodded. “If you’re sure it’ll be ok-”

“I promise it will all be ok,” Adrien nodded, smiling gently at her. “I can call our PR team later
today and they deal with it as a number one priory.”

Marinette hummed, trying to ignore the butterflies, which had reappeared in her chest. “Well, in
that case, I’d love to go.”
 Adrien’s smile turned into an outright beam and he began talking to her quickly and excitedly
about the gala and what to expect.

It sounded wonderful, and all Marinette could do was hope that she wasn’t making a terrible
mistake.

Chapter End Notes

Hope you liked the story! If you did please let us know in the comments.
And to tide you over to the next time check out our latest WDDM short "How Chat
Noir Got His Bell Back"

Also also I've got a few oneshots set in the When Duty and Desire Meet universe
planned during Adrienette April so do keep an eye out for those too! :)

As always, if you like more, please follow us on our socials! I've also started a new art
insta so please do follow me there too @midnightstarlightdraws ! ^O^

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 The Gala Part l
Chapter Notes

IMPORTANT NOTICE- PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

You may have noticed the gap between chapters had been a little bigger than normal.
Along with pandemic things, edendaphne's life circumstances have made it so that
she's finding it difficult to do any art right now (you might have noticed she's posting
less in general through no fault of her own!)

Unfortunately those circumstances are unlikely to change for the foreseeable future,
and because it's been a while since we updated, we decided that I would post this
chapter without art. This was a difficult decision and I understand some of you may be
disappointed but PLEASE don't harass Eden or be rude to her. I know she wishes she
could have done art for this chapter but adult life gets in the way sometimes. Please
send her love and kindness instead ❤ ultimately, this is still a collab and this chapter
wouldn't have been anything without her input.

We hope you'll enjoy the new chapter! Welcome to the Gala Arc!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

A bomb had exploded in Alya and Nino’s apartment.

At least that’s how it first appeared. Somehow, despite knowing exactly what they were going to
wear for the Gala, the living room floor was strewn with piles and piles of clothes. Make up was
littered across the already overloaded coffee table. Nino’s shoes were inexplicably placed on an
empty clothes horse. And the purses, the endless sea of purses glistened as they caught the late
afternoon sun from wherever spot one of them had tossed them.

“This is definitely a late-night cleaning job,” Marinette sighed from her spot on the sofa, referring
to her strange penchant for cleaning when she returned home drunk from a night out on the town. It
was like she was trying to give a gift to her hungover self, though it did mean she sometimes found
a bra in the fridge (her drunk self thought cold boobs would be funny and she was wrong ) or socks
in the sink. She was still trying to figure the latter one out.

Although she didn’t plan to get drunk at the Gala (she wanted to be on her best behaviour around
people who one day might be her colleagues or superiors), if Alya or Nino suggested some after-
party drinking at a bar, she sure as hell wouldn’t say no. They’d invited her to stay at theirs, in the
hopes that they could heal from whatever the night would bring together, and absolve her of any
embarrassment from her parents if she was hungover. So, wherever they went, Marinette would
happily follow. It was nice to let other people take charge for once.

Wrapped in a fluffy white robe, she slunk down on the sofa with a sigh. With a glass of prosecco
clutched in her hands, she leaned against the cushions and watched Nino frowning at the mirror
above the non-working fireplace. Yes, she wasn’t planning on getting drunk, but pre-drinking was
helping with her nerves. None of them had been to such a fancy event before and it was giving her
a lot of relief to know that, finally, she wasn’t the only one freaking out.
At least if Alya shrieking “DAMN OTHER EYE- LET ME PUT AN EYELINER WING ON
YOU, YOU ASSHOLE!” from the bathroom was anything to go by.

“I BELIEVE IN YOU BABE, SHOW THAT EYE WHO’S BOSS!” Nino called.

“HELL YEAH!” Alya replied, making Marinette chuckle into her glass.

His encouragement given for the time being, Nino began to grumble over his own problems.
Grunting with frustration, he fidgeted with the bow tie around his neck. “How do rich people do
this every week? I don’t get it. Now I know why cats hate collars so much.”

As the Gala was a black-tie event, Adrien had set Nino up with a tailor who rented out the kind of
suits nobody could ever afford, the kind even celebrities rented. Nino, who was one of the most
casual dressers Marinette knew (and that wasn’t a slight on him, he was one of those people who
were blessed with the magic to make casual look fashionable), was struggling with the formalities
of it all.

With an exaggerated sigh, Marinette took a final sip of her prosecco and placed it on the table.
Trying not to think of her own (was he even hers anymore?) kitty and his collar, she shuffled
forwards and sat upright.

“Gimme it.” She wiggled both hands in a beckoning motion and Nino trudged towards her,
flopping on the sofa beside her. “Oh come on, it's not so bad,” she soothed. “Look, if you manage
to go the whole evening without taking it off, I’ll get you doughnuts from the bakery. I still
haven’t paid you back for the ones I dropped at Adrien’s fashion shoot.”

His eyes glazed over and he stared out into the middle-distance as Marinette tugged at his bowtie,
redoing it so that it was less tight.

“Ah those doughnuts, how they’ve haunted my dreams,” he sighed dramatically and Marinette
noticed Nino had picked up Adrien’s habit of speaking like an old-fashioned drama teacher
whenever he was being silly-serious. She giggled and it snapped Nino out of it. He looked at her
with a pout. “No but literally, they were so good. Damn Adrien and his sexy super-abs. I mean!” he
flapped his arms. “I mean his REGULAR, HUMAN SEXY ABS.”

“No I think you’re right,” Marinette agreed with another laugh. “Those abs were superhuman. But
he’s a model right? So it’s his job. It makes sense. He’s not allowed doughnuts. You are though, so
yay for you.”

Nino gave a half-hearted wheezy laugh in response and Marinette checked to see if she was
tightening his bowtie too much, but it looked fine. The pair lapsed into a friendly silence, with faint
sounds of triumph occasionally coming from the bathroom. It seemed Alya’s other eye was finally
cooperating.

“But you know something, all doughnuts are similar if you think about it,” Nino added, and his
tone gave Marinette pause. Her hands stilled at his collar and she glanced up, meeting his eyes.
There was something in those golden-brown depths that was searching for something in her,
imploring. Marinette had no clue what it was. “It’s just the ones you dropped, the ones I couldn’t
have, are more appealing. I’m obsessed because I only got a small taste of them before they were
lost to me. If I let go of the idea of those doughnuts, and accept the ones you’ve offered me, I
might see that really the doughnut I needed was there all along. Right in front of my eyes.”

Now it was Marinette’s turn to frown. “Nino you’ve had doughnuts from my parents bakery
thousands of times before, you know that they’re better than anything else in Paris. Also as a
baker’s daughter, I take offense to the fact that all doughnuts are similar. They are absolutely not .”

“Ok I’m sorry for that. But- like- putting that aside, isn’t it a cliché for a reason though?” Nino
pressed. “That you don’t recognise how amazing the thing right in front of you is, because you’re
so busy hunting down things you think might be better? But really it might be the same?”

“Nino, is this your roundabout way of telling me you’re cheating on my parent’s bakery with those
tourist trap patisseries or something?” Marinette teased. It was all she could do, despite the inkling
she got that Nino was trying to tell her something. Wracking her brain, she desperately sought out
the meaning behind his words. It was off-putting to be honest, Nino was usually pretty upfront with
things. So he must have been talking about something he wasn’t really supposed to. Perhaps it was
a warning?

She thought about the clichés he used; about things being right in front of his eyes...

Her heart sank like a stone. Had Alya told Nino about the fact that Adrien loved her? Was this his
roundabout way of telling her to go for it? He’d encouraged her about it at the fashion shoot,
before the whole death threat thing. Was he trying again? If that was the case, why was he being
less forthcoming? He had no problem discussing it with her before… unless Alya had sworn him to
secrecy?

No. That couldn’t be it. If Alya hadn’t told Nino that she was Ladybug (which she definitely
hadn’t) she was sure she would keep her mouth shut about Adrien’s love for her. There was no
way Nino could know. Sure he’d teased her about Adrien having a crush, but a crush and love
were two very different things!

The only other theory she had was that maybe Adrien had told Nino himself?

Before she had the chance to question him further, the bathroom door opened and Alya made her
grand revelation. “Ta-dah!”

And just like that, Nino was distracted. Leaping to his feet, his hands came up to his head and his
jaw dropped. “Noooo, what?! Hold on.” He twisted himself away from Alya, then back to her
again. When he saw her again, he wobbled on his feet, clutching his chest. “Oh my god, no that
can’t be my girlfriend looking like that. Nope. There’s no way I’m that lucky. I must be dreaming.”

“Oh you flatterer!” Alya sighed, waving a dismissive hand but, judging from the grin reaching
from ear-to-ear, she was satisfied with his response. Nino wandered over and grabbed her hand,
lifting it so she could twirl.

Meanwhile, Marinette sat back and admired her handiwork. She’d designed and made Alya’s dress
herself. It was meant to be a birthday present but when Adrien invited them to the gala, she decided
to finish it early and present it to Alya. It wasn’t an uncommon event, Marinette had designed and
made hundreds of outfits for her friends over the years, but she was particularly proud of her latest
creations.

The dress was form-fitting, sparkling in ombre colours; a deep red at the top melting into a
shimming silver at the floor-length hem. It was an off-the-shoulder affair, with a sheer burnt red
chiffon sleeve floating against Alya’s right arm. As Alya twirled around, Marinette felt a sense of
not only relief, but wonder. Her best friend was so pretty, and she was glad she’d managed to
create something which suited her so well. Especially as all those sequins had almost killed her to
sew on.

But it gave her a welcome distraction from patrols. She’d actually not gone the last two nights,
although she was trying hard not to feel guilty about that. It was unrealistic to patrol Paris every
night and, for the sake of her mental health, taking a break from it was good. Yes it meant she was
deliberately choosing not to run into Chat Noir and confess anymore, but that was only temporary.
If she was honest, it was somewhat of a welcome relief. She hadn’t realised how exhausted she’d
been until she spent the night at Adrien’s a week ago.

“You’re a genius!” Alya cried, snapping Marinette out of her thoughts. She grabbed her own
neglected glass of prosecco, and shuffled over to Marinette, placing a kiss on her cheek. “This is
your best creation yet, except for your dress. I love them both so much.”

Marinette flushed, a bubble of worry forming in her stomach. “You really think so? I love it to
pieces but I’m worried. What if nobody likes my design and they laugh me out of the room? What
if I leave the fashion industry in disgrace before I even get a job there?!”

Nino, who’d moved to slump over the adjacent armchair, snorted, “Not likely! And if that happens,
the fashion industry is broken.”

“But it won’t happen!” Alya rolled her eyes and began tugging Marinette out of her seat. “Now go-
go and get ready or we’ll be late.”

“Yes ma’am,” Marinette sighed, the knot of worry growing despite the words of comfort she’d
received. Shuffling over to the bathroom, Marinette plucked her dress, which was hanging covered
in protective plastic, from the bathroom door and headed inside to get changed.

So she completely missed Alya whirling around to Nino, eyes narrowing, finger pressed just
underneath the bow tie.

“Alright buddy, what do you know?”

“Hi Chat! It’s me. Just wondering if you were showing up to patrol tonight? No worries if you
aren’t though- I can totally handle it.”

Beep.

“Hi Chat! I haven’t seen you the past couple of patrols. I know that sometimes our schedules don’t
cross, but you usually always tell me. Message me when you can, ok?”

Beep.

“Hi Chat. Listen. I’m going to be taking a little break from patrols. Like literally a few days. I’m…
kind of getting burned out a little (wait that was stupid to say). It’s not like I want to shirk my
responsibilities or anything! Classwork and stuff is piling up. I hope you’re ok. I miss you, Kitty
Cat. I’ll still be checking my messages so let me know how things are going. I’m a little worried
now, as I haven’t heard from you in a while. Anyways gotta go! Love ya, bye…”

His baton beeped a final time, symbolising the end of Ladybug’s messages, and all Chat Noir could
do was stand rooted to the rooftop. Their usual meeting spot was empty. Now he knew why.

He groaned, walking backwards towards the chimney and sliding down to the ground. Pressing his
hands against his face, he began to lose himself in a sea of self-destructive thoughts. Had he really
been so caught up in his own mess of a life that he’d forgotten to message Ladybug?! Seriously?
He ought to turn in his miraculous right then and there. What a terrible excuse of a partner he was.
In every sense of the word.

Curling his hands into fists, he slammed them onto his knees and tilted his head back so that it
rested against the chimney. Nino’s words from earlier grounded him back to reality, pulled him out
of those dark thoughts. He had a lot of things to make right, sure, but he would make them right.

In fact, that was why he was at their patrol spot to begin with, instead of preparing for the gala like
he ought to have been. It was a weekend and that usually meant they met during daylight hours,
often around this time. But he’d come with ulterior motives. Instead of a patrol, he hoped to meet
Ladybug…

And confess it all to her. The first encounter with Marinette, the clandestine meetings which
followed, how he wanted to reveal his identity to her. All of it.

Historically, he knew Ladybug had to tell her parents her identity when she’d almost died, and her
best friend also found out so she could cover the truth from her other friends. Ladybug also knew
that one of his friends (Chloe though he didn’t name her) accidentally walked in on him
transforming. They were always honest with each other about these things.

But this time he wanted to do it right. This time, some semblance of control over the situation was
in the cards. So he chose to tell Ladybug the truth before it happened. Not to mention, he had to tell
her that he’d revealed his identity to a new person too. Nino.

And maybe, a quiet yearning voice whispered in his mind, maybe they might want to finally reveal
to each other too.

Maybe it might inspire them both to finally rip off that bandage.

Maybe not.

It was terrifying, a no-go area, a boundary they’d not brought up in years. They could have shared
their identities the second Hawkmoth was defeated, but it never came up. For Chat, he was too
ashamed of his family, too afraid of his own part to play in her near death experience. There was
also a part of him terrified that, when Gabriel Agreste’s crimes came to light, the world would turn
on him too. And he wouldn’t care, if he still had Ladybug. So he clung to the connection that had
mattered the most to him in the whole world, determined to never lose her again.

He didn’t know why she stayed silent. Perhaps she would tell him if things went down that route?

He wasn’t sure- wasn’t sure if he even wanted that anyway. There was still that fear in the back of
his thoughts, the image which had haunted his nightmares; of Ladybug’s loving smile turning into
a scowl of disgust when she came to realise he was the son of their enemy. The fear of her walking
away for good...

So there he was, on the precipice of telling two of the most important people in his life his identity.
Possibly. If Ladybug wanted to. If she could forgive him.

But, as the sun began to creep further towards the horizon, as the shadows elongated and city lights
began to flicker on, he knew his time was up. He couldn’t wait anymore.

As Chat Noir got to his feet, he stared down at the tiny cracks in the roof tiles, and felt they were
akin to the perceived control he’d thought he’d had over the situation. Taking a deep breath, he
smiled to himself. Okay, so the first part of his plan hadn’t gone right. As long as he made it up to
Ladybug after the fact, as long as he was honest with her after, it would be fine wouldn’t it? She
was understanding before.
Everything would be fine. It had to be. He had a plan!

After sending a brief voice message to Ladybug’s communicator, he vowed that he would patrol
every night until she was done with her break, and then leapt away to get ready for the Gala.

As Adrien entered the venue via the runway, he couldn’t help but notice how much his mother had
outdone herself.

As this was a Charity Gala, the money being raised for Emilie’s charity for underprivileged
children’s education, there was to be an fashion-related auction before the festivities began. Hence
the runway, which was situated right at front doors to the venue. So guests, most of them
designers, would get the chance to make a grand entrance like the supermodels they frequently
adorned. There was a side entrance for those designers Emilie knew wouldn’t enjoy such a thing,
but it seemed Emilie knew her guests well enough that this would be a novel little ego boost. And
if that didn’t quite do the trick of putting them in a charitable mood, at the end of the runway guests
would descend and be immediately greeted by servers with canapes and champagne.

His mother was a genius.

Gabriel’s new designs were being auctioned off, but other designers had donated their own
creations, some of them unique to this event only. Everyone knew Emilie Agreste’s name had
weight to it, and to be part of her Gala was excellent positive publicity. Photographers milled
around, ready to take private photographs for guests, but also ones for the media outlets. They
weren’t press, the press were outside instead.

Adrien noticed all of this because he had to. He traipsed down the runway, automatically in model-
mode, before descending and being greeted by servers, whom he politely declined. One or two
photographers were hanging back by the arches which framed the lengthy ballroom, but they
thankfully didn’t take his picture.

Instead of taking in all the décor, he wandered straight over to the bar. So he missed the plush,
curved chairs framing both sides of a runway as though it was Paris Fashion Week. He missed the
way the golden lighting would give way to strokes of blue, as if the light of a tropical pond was
reflected on the curved ceiling. He missed the circular dance floor at the opposite side of the room,
and the orchestra set up on the balcony which wrapped around the entire room.

Propping himself up onto a barstool, Adrien asked the waiter for a glass of champagne. This was
no good. His nerves were getting the better of him and he needed to pull himself together before
Marinette arrived. Besides he wanted to be able to be there for his mother, be a good son and a
good sort-of host. At least the champagne bubbles always made him happy, like they floated
around and tickled his chest, comforting him.

Gabriel approached his side and Adrien braced himself for a scolding due to heading straight for
the alcohol. It never came.

“Your friend Marinette, did she accept your invitation? And your friends too?” Gabriel asked,
standing upright and facing straight towards the other side of the bar.

Adrien copied his father’s position, except he leaned across the bar from his stool instead. “She
did,” he replied, uncertainty clawing at his chest, popping all the happy champagne bubbles.

Forgiveness was a hard-won thing. Adrien, though he loved his father, wasn’t ever sure Gabriel
could win that forgiveness from him. So why was he, even now as an adult, still cloying for the
approval of a man who’d once brought Paris to its knees in order to save his wife? The space
between them at the bar might have been a canyon, but Adrien still hadn’t let go of the fragile rope
bridge hanging between the two sides. Even now, even after everything.

He should hate him shouldn’t he? He did, though. He did hate Gabriel Agreste. The problem was,
he didn’t just hate him. He loved him, was disgusted by him. He wanted his approval, he wanted
him to leave...

More than anything though, he was still clinging to that hope that one day Gabriel would turn
around and be the father he’d always needed- especially when his mother had gone missing. But
that would mean undoing time itself, and there were some superpowers he didn’t have nor truly
want.

“Good,” Gabriel nodded. “It’s wise to not draw any more attention to your rumoured relationship.
It should keep reputations intact. Especially as she has not arrived with you, and I assume she’ll be
arriving with friends later. The reporters outside will notice that. Hopefully it will dampen any
ideas that you’re dating each other.”

Adrien wrinkled his nose, mumbling under his breath. “She’s not a puppet for keeping up our
family reputation, you know.”

The words were unsaid, but Adrien let their implications hang in the air anyway: You’re the puppet
who will destroy our family reputation. Once everyone finds out the truth.

“I didn’t mean it that way son,” Gabriel replied. “Your friend is studying fashion, isn’t she?”
Adrien nodded. “Well drawing attention to herself by entering a supposed tryst with the son of a
famous designer, if the tide of media favour turned on her poorly, it could kill her career before it
even began.”

Adrien stopped leaning against the counter. He turned, blinking heavily in disbelief, towards his
father. Gabriel was already looking at him.

Is he… is he looking out for Marinette? Why would he be doing that? Since when has he cared
about any fashion designer's legacy except for his own?

There wasn’t much time to ruminate on his father’s peculiar behaviour. Out of the corner of
Adrien’s eye, he saw his mother approach them, head-to-toe in an elegant royal blue gown. The
smile on her mouth and the steel in her eyes meant only one thing.

The Gala was about to begin.

Guests began to filter in, slowly but surely, as the band began to play. Elegant, floating strings
mingled with the sounds of laughter. It appeared the runway entrance was a success.

Adrien wandered around, greeting designers politely but robotically. He was charming, poised, and
charismatic. Channelling some Chat Noir, he flirted with the middle-aged ladies and joked around
with the older male designers, not really liking their ‘Old Boys Club’ ways, but needing to cater to
them nonetheless. It was easy to slip into the role, to drop his anxieties as he picked up his Perfect
Son persona.

He only checked his pocket about twenty times.

Then he saw them.

Alya, dress dripping with red and silver sparkles, looking delightful fiery in every sense of the
word. Nino, slightly more nervous and awed beside her, but incredibly handsome in his dark blue
suit. Their eyes caught his from across the room and they waved, heading down the stairs off the
runway and beelining towards him.

Marinette wasn’t with them.

It was like all the happy little champagne bubbles had cemented; turned to stone in his chest. Now
he couldn’t breathe. He was being dragged by the weight in his chest, down, down, down. Where
was she? She wouldn’t cancel at the last minute would she? She wouldn’t…

There must have been something on Adrien’s face registering his inner turmoil. Nino approached
him first, took one look at him, and grabbed his bicep like a vice.

“Hey babe!” he called out to Alya. “Adrien’s just gonna show me where the boys room is. Steal
lots of those little finger food thingies for me?”

“On it!” Alya called back, already heading towards the servers.

“I love that woman,” Nino sighed lovingly, then shook his head. “Right. Mens room, now.”

Adrien pointed them out weakly. With a strength he didn’t know Nino possessed, he frogmarched
Adrien all the way and nudged him into the bathroom. Checking to see nobody was present in the
stools, he wheeled on Adrien.

“Ok what’s going on? You look about three seconds from a heart attack.”

Adrien leaned against the wall by the sinks. “Marinette. She’s not here with you.”

Nino exhaled loudly, clutching his chest. “Bro is that all? She’s just checking all our coats in for
us! There was a queue so she’s probably going to be a little while. Jeez, you had me freaked that
something happened to the Lucky Charm or whatever.”

At the mention of the Lucky Charm, Adrien patted the secret breast pocket inside his jacket. He
kept phantom dropping it, and sighing with relief when it was there. He was going to use the
Lucky Charm in his confession. He had a speech prepared. The rooftop was still empty and he had
the key to get up there so he could take her there to confess. Nino was here for emotional support
and Marinette was on her way.

“I need to calm down,” he gasped.

“Yeah you do,” Nino chuckled, folding his arms and staring fondly at him. “It’s kind of funny
though. Like I’m looking into a pale, sweaty mirror of my past. I was a wreck when I told Alya I
loved her for the first time.”

“Oh my god I’m SWEATING?!”

“Easy there, Monsieur Model,” Nino replied, grabbing some tissue from the dispensers and
offering it to him. “Just your forehead. Calm down already.”

“Yeah no kidding,” Plagg rolled his eyes, floating out of one of Adrien’s other pockets. “It’s
boiling in your suit you know, and I can’t believe you didn’t let me bring any cheese.”

“I literally gave you a WHOLE WHEEL for lunch!” Adrien argued.

“Wait, is that why you sometimes smell like cheese on hot days?” Nino gawked, still not used to
seeing Plagg.

Adrien poked Plagg’s side affectionately. “Yep, all thanks to this guy.”

Plagg bit the air close to Adrien’s finger.

“Anyways, we better get back out there, I don’t know if that cloakroom queue is going fast or slow
and I don’t think you want to miss Marinette’s arrival,” Nino replied, checking his phone and
typing out a quick message to someone.

“Why?” Adrien pondered.

Nino glanced up at him, his eyes glinting with a promise. Though what he was promising, Adrien
didn’t know.

“Dude. Trust me.”

Marinette peeked out from behind the curtain, staring at the runway which stretched into the
ballroom. A sliver of light hit her, and she looked down at the way the sparkles on her dress smiled
at the light, wanting to be bathed in it fully. She looked down further, to the pink heels poking out
from the hem of her dress. Her heart was in her throat.

“No way, no way, I can’t,” she whispered, shaking her head and closing the curtain. She stepped
aside, hands wrapping around her bare arms, and allowed an elderly couple to walk through
instead. Laughing, the pair clutched each other's forearms and stepped into the light. The elder lady
turned to her husband and teased him, before the curtain closed again.

Marinette was pretty sure they were the designing couple that were responsible for making
shoulder pads huge in the eighties. But she was too freaked out to be star struck, and that was
saying something.

They didn’t really expect her to walk down that runway, did they? Sure she was much less clumsy
than she used to be (it turned out her clumsiness had to do with puberty and once she was out the
other side of that whole mess, she was ever so slightly more graceful), but years of making a fool
of herself by breaking things and tripping over her own feet had left a scar. She might as well have
been staring at Mount Everest.

From out of the corner of her eye, a door opened and Alya’s head popped around it.

“Oh! There you are! The boys were getting antsy so I came to hunt you down,” she said.

Never before had she been so relieved to see her friend. Walking down the steps and around the
runway, she rushed towards Alya and wrapped her hands around her.

“There’s a door! Alya thank you for pointing it out,” she sighed in relief and was about to walk
through it when Alya grabbed her hand.

“Woah, woah, woah! Marinette Dupain-Cheng, where do you think you’re going?”

Her outraged tone caused Marinette to swivel back to Alya, eyebrows raised in mild surprise.
“Um,” she said uncertainly, “I’m entering the gala? On the non-runway where I won’t make a fool
of myself by tripping up and destroying my dress in the process?”
“Wrong answer,” Alya scowled, swapping places with Marinette and attempting to tug her back
towards the runway, but Marinette dug her heels in. “I know it’s scary, but it’s also fun! You don’t
have to strut like a model. Besides, I want EVERYONE to see this dress and I know you do too.
It’s your best work.”

“Alya I can’t! I’ll trip over my own feet, I’ll never be able to work in this city! I’ll-”

“Excuse me.”

Their little disagreement was interrupted and, for a wild moment, Marinette thought they might be
kicked out for causing a scene, despite the fact they were off to the side and nobody was paying
attention to them. Then her logical brain kicked in and she recognised the tone of the ‘excuse me.’

Chloe was standing in front of them, eyebrow quirked and covered head-to-toe in a layered,
golden-yellow gown which instantly reminded Marinette of honey bees.

Before either of them could speak, Chloe closed the gap and gave Marinette a once-over. It never
stopped being strange, meeting someone as Ladybug and then meeting them as her civilian self.
The discrepancy in treatment was never lost on her, especially once people got even more hero-
worshippy after Hawkmoth’s defeat.

“You are Adrien’s friend? Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I couldn’t help but overhear,” Chloe said in a
way which indicated she very much could help overhearing, but chose to and didn’t want to be
challenged on that fact.

“That’s me,” Marinette confirmed, awkwardly waving and offering an even more awkward smile.
Once all her crazy relationship drama had died down, she really had to make good on her Ladybug
promise to take selfies with Chloe.

Chloe hummed. It was strange to see the much more guarded expression, the icier tone in her
voice. If she’d met Chloe before she’d been Ladybug, perhaps she might have been put off by it.
But Ladybug had seen Chloe’s walls come down a bit, so she didn’t take it personally. Alya was
bristling beside her.

“You know, Adrien’s told us a lot about you,” Marinette said, smiling less nervously this time and
taking the first step. “Did you design that dress yourself?”

That did the trick. A little sparkle began twinkling in Chloe’s eyes. “Oh this old thing? I suppose I
both did and didn’t. It’s one of my mother’s old designs, never seen before, which I’ve updated and
improved. Now I’m going to show off my skills for everyone to see. And I suggest you do too.”

“See? Everyone wants to see you walk down the runway in your dress!” Alya pointed out, tapping
Marinette’s shoulder playfully. “And I know you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

At the thought of walking down the runway, her smile crumbled. “I’m really not sure,” she sighed.

“So don’t go,” Chloe snapped, “Run through the door and don’t get the attention of hundreds of
the best designers in Europe and leave them all to me.” Her lips quirked in a challenge. “From what
Adrien has said about you, I expected someone who might finally offer me a little competition. It’s
been so dreadfully boring winning all the time.”

Marinette gaped at her. Chloe tossed her well-curled hair over shoulder, checking her mini tiara-
like headband was still in place. She sauntered up onto the runway.

“Watch and learn,” she said, then disappeared through the curtain to a sea of cheering and
 applause.

Marinette and Alya hurried after her, poking their faces through the curtain and staring as Chloe
floated down the runway with ease. It was as if she was walking on air. Her dress billowed out.
There were gasps, mutterings amongst the crowd, but none that showed disapproval.

Alya turned to her with a smirk, “Oh girl, you’ve been challenged. You really going to take that
lying down?”

Marinette lifted up the hem of her dress, stared at the pink heels adorned with rose-gold metallic
swirls and delicate flowers. She loved those shoes so much. But right then, she hated them.

“You won’t trip,” Alya soothed, placing a hand on her forearm. “And even if you did, I bet Adrien
would be there to catch you.”

Marinette flicked Alya’s forehead and the latter wandered off back through the door, laughing.

“See you on the other side!” she called. “I have total faith in you.”

And then she was alone.

She stood there for a while, lingering in the shadows and letting guest after guest past her. Not one
of them used the door.

They were right, Alya and Chloe, of course they were right. She wanted everyone to see her dress.
She worked so hard on it and she was so happy with it. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. And
Marinette was so sick of regretting things she’d not done; not confessing her identity to Chat (in
more ways than one), not admitting she loved him sooner, being so brave in so many areas and
being so cowardly everywhere else.

Well tonight she wouldn’t be cowardly. Tonight she would be brave.

She climbed the stairs.

Tonight she wouldn’t show the world her superhero self.

But she would show the world that her civilian self was just as much of a force to be reckoned
with.

Taking a deep breath Marinette held her chin up high, pulled back the curtain and stepped into the
light.

The runway was hers.

Chapter End Notes

Can someone PLEASE help Nino? lololol

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 The Gala Part ll
Chapter Notes

Hey everyone! It's been a while. Life has been crazy for both Eden and I! With Eden
moving house and myself recently getting engaged (!!!!) and still clacking away at my
novel. We understand the wait between updates is super long and we thank you for
being so patient with us. I hope this VERY long chapter makes up for it! Love you all!
<3

Midnight

See the end of the chapter for more notes

In years to come, Adrien knew he’d forget things about the Gala. Things like the outfit he wore,
the exact colour of the flowered centrepieces, or how many guests he chatted with. There were
many memories of that night which could get lost to time, fading like words on an ancient
newspaper.

But he would never forget her.

As Marinette glided down the runway, a vision in pink, a goddess of fashion, time seemed to slow.
The lights around the runway gave her an almost otherworldly glow, and she held her chin high.
Her hair, falling around her shoulders in delicate curls, caught the strands of light and for a
moment, it looked like she had captured the very essence of starlight in those cascading locks.
Adrien thought there wasn’t another person alive who could own that runway like she did.

The sounds of the festivities died down to almost nothing. Adrien didn’t know if it was because
they too had spotted Marinette and were equally as awed, or if it was him focusing so entirely on
her that the rest of the world simply fell away. All the air seemed to suck out of the room, but he
knew that if he continued to look at her, he’d be able to keep breathing.

It was hard to simply look though, to not stare or gawk. For a fleeting moment, he had the urge to
run to her, to whisk her off that runway and into his arms. Forget the plans, forget the confession,
he just needed her.

But this was her moment, not his, not theirs, and what kind of partner would he be if he didn’t stand
back and let her shine?

And shine she did. He knew she’d made the gown herself, knew she was a talented seamstress.
She’d made him a perfect replica of a Final Fantasy outfit for a cosplay after all, and they were
notoriously difficult. This dress though? It was a combination of loving craft and a design skill that
was, in his opinion, unparalleled. The muted, pale pink bodice was daring, an intricate webbing of
lace and rose gold embroidery which etched its way up Marinette’s chest like tiny tree roots
reaching from her waist to her shoulders in a v-shape. The empty spaces where the roots didn’t
reach were covered with a sheer layer of chiffon which appeared almost nude to the untrained eye.
Adrien’s mouth went dry.

But it was the skirts of the dress where her creativity truly shone. Every panel was, at first glance,
shaped rather oddly in a slight arch. But the sparkling embroidery, the way the panels gently
fanned out with her movements (especially behind her) created the intended effect.

Wings.

But not the typical wings which might inspire a designer-in-training. No cliche, featherlike angel
patterns or overly garish fairy designs. No.

The skirts of her dress were lavishly designed to replicate insect wings. Like a bees or a dragonflies
or-

-Or a ladybugs, Adrien’s mind supplied. A quiet part of him, a part he’d tried to squish flat, leapt in
delight at the thought. He squashed it down again. After tonight, if all went well, he couldn’t let it
rear its head ever again.

She descended from the platform, raising her skirts delicately so as not to trip, and was instantly
enveloped by a squealing Alya. Even from where Adrien stood, rooted to the spot, he could hear
her singing Marinette’s praises as she handed her a flute of champagne.

“Told you to trust me, didn’t I?” a voice popped up from beside him. Nino, he realised a second
later than he ought to have. Peering over, Nino smirked, lifting his index finger underneath
Adrien’s chin and pushing up. It was only then that Adrien realised his mouth had been hanging
open. “You’re such a simp, dude. Though, I’m not exactly one to talk.”

“Yeah,” Adrien agreed with a sigh, still staring at Marinette, who’d just caught his eye. She offered
him a wave, smiling shyly and he waved back, already halfway to her. He just about registered the
sounds of Nino’s laughter, deciding he’d ask what the hell a simp was another time.

“Hi!” Marinette cried out enthusiastically when he at last stood before her. Her cheeks were
flushed and her eyes were slightly wild. “Did you see I didn’t fall over? I can’t believe I didn’t!
Alya said I wouldn’t but I genuinely didn’t believe her. That was the scariest moment of my whole
life. How do you do that for a living? You’re literally the bravest person ever. Look at me, I'm
shaking!”

She lifted her hand, indeed it was trembling. Unfortunately, it was the hand which held her
champagne flute. A few drops sloshed over the top and onto the floor and she took a step back.
Adrien didn’t think it was possible to fall more in love, but there he was. Every moment he spent in
her company proved him wrong on that front.

“Ok Mademoiselle Adrenaline,” Alya rolled her eyes, plucking the glass out of Marinette’s grasp.
“Let’s take away that alcohol before you ruin that perfect dress of yours. Maybe some wine will
calm you down instead.”

“Actually yeah that does sound good,” Marinette nodded. “Champagne makes me hyper. I think it’s
the bubbles, you know?”

“You’re adorable,” Adrien blurted.

The whole group fell silent, except for Nino who choked mid-sip on a glass of red he’d been
nursing. Had Adrien said that out loud? Oops.

“T-thank you,” Marinette blushed, glancing down, then looking up at him again. “You look
handsome tonight. That suit looks good on you.”

Adrien knew, in an objective sort of way, that he was attractive. You can’t be a model and not be
after all. He was so attractive, apparently, that his rivals would resort to kidnapping him and risk
imprisonment to remove him from the competition. But to hear those words from the person he
loved? To hear her think of him as handsome? It sent his heart cartwheeling.

Emboldened by the compliment, he pushed further. Now was not the time for bashfulness. The
plan was in effect. His mission tonight, aside from confessing everything, was to make her happy.
She’d been so stressed, so withdrawn and exhausted recently. He wanted to show her a good time,
wanted her to forget everything they’d been through. That was his priority. She was his priority. No
matter how tonight, how his confession, ended. He wanted to at least make her feel good before
then.

“My suit?” he replied incredulously, glancing down. From his periphery, he noticed Alya and Nino
casually sneaking away. The suit he wore was a little more lavish than usual, yes, adorned with a
few embellishments around the sleeves and lapels, but it was still a black suit. “That’s nothing.
Look at you! Look at what you created. You’re amazing.”

Marinette beamed. “Yes, well,” she responded, practically glowing again, she tucked her hands
into her dress and it was then Adrien realised she’d given herself pockets. “I had to bring my a-
game, you know? We’re surrounded by the best designers in the world here.”

“And they’re all staring at you,” Adrien leaned in close, whispering into her ear. With only the
slightest inclinations, he gestured to the side. Marinette followed his line of sight, lips parting in
surprise.

It would be so easy to step closer, to step into her embrace and place a kiss to her cheek, to her lips.
The problem with memories is they liked to tease you at the worst of times. As Marinette gave a
small gasp, Adrien’s traitorous mind supplied other times she’d gasped for him. He balled his
hands into fists, trying to think of something, anything, else.

“You think so? They could be staring at you. You are the son of the host, and also the best model
here,” Marinette’s eyes flicked back to him, noticing how close they were. But she didn’t pull
away.

Adrien shook his head. “They’re looking at you. They want to know you,” he replied firmly, but
quietly, gently. “And I think I finally have some decent competition. You were a vision on that
runaway. Nobody could look away. Everyone wants to speak to you about your dress.”

He stood up, taking her hand and bringing it towards his chest.

“You see what I’m going to do now,” he explained, “is pretend to go and get you a drink. The
second you’re left alone? They’ll come to you. Are you ready for that? They’ll ask you questions
about your dress, about the designs. When they find out you designed it, they’ll be ravenous,
asking more questions, asking about your inspiration, the fabrics, the hours you spent on it. Are
you ready for that? Or do you need more time? I’ll stay here as long as you need.”

He knew the answer before he’d asked it, but he still wanted to give her the choice. Of course
Marinette, leader of the Gaming Club, top of all of her classes, would have suitably prepared for
this scenario. Marinette’s body tensed, in a way a soldier’s might as their sergeant approached them
for inspection.

“Ready? I was born ready,” she grinned confidently. “Bring them on!”

Trying to quell the ridiculous impulses in his brain (kiss her now! Kiss her now you fool!), Adrien
simply nodded.

“Well then,” he pressed his lips to her hand. “I’ll be back with the wine shortly.”

On unsteady legs, he turned away from her and proceeded to go towards the bar. Alya and Nino
were nowhere to be seen. He wondered if the latter had snuck off to check everything on the roof
had been set up. Patting his pocket, Adrien felt the lucky charm and his shoulders relaxed.

“Well,” Chloe sniffed from beside him as he finished ordering. She crossed her arms, huffing,
before she ordered a whisky for herself. “It seems I’ve been thoroughly shown up.”

Adrien frowned. He hoped Chloe wouldn’t get too jealous and start trying to sabotage Marinette’s
chances. But, as if she’d already read his mind, Chloe rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“Relax, Romeo, your Juliet is safe for the night. I’m not quite as dramatic as I was when I was
young, you know, the same way you’re less of a wilting flower now,” she sighed, leaning against
the bar. Adrien was prepared to let the slight against himself go, not only because there was some
element of truth in the sting, but also because he knew when to pick his battles with Chloe. “It’s
almost a relief to have a rival now.”

“Why do you have to be rivals? Why can’t you just collaborate? You two would be unstoppable
together,” Adrien replied, not hiding his exasperation as he received the glasses of wine from the
bartender. He turned to face the direction Chloe was staring, back towards Marinette. A smile split
his lips as he found his predictions correct. There she was, chatting away to an enraptured audience
of his father’s peers. His father however, was notably absent from the group.

Good, his mind snarled protectively, let him stay far away. Then he remembered his father’s words
earlier, and wondered if Gabriel kept his distance purposefully, to help rather than hinder
Marinette. The idea made his thoughts tangle unpleasantly, but he wouldn’t allow his feelings to
follow suit.

Luckily, Chloe’s quick bark of laughter sliced through the sudden dark cloud over his thoughts.
“Honestly Adrien, businesses don’t get to be empires if you go around expressing love to all your
competitors. Besides, where’s the fun in being free-loving? No, no. See, all the best stories start
with rivals. You compete, get other people to join your side or theirs. This drives up profits for
both teams and your beloved fans become rabidly competitive. Remember the viral poll that went
around Twitter a few years ago of who would win in a fight, y- Chat Noir or Ladybug? Merchants
declared soaring profits for both LB and Chat merch alike! It’s simply shrewd business tactics to be
rivals first. Then you take the world by storm by announcing a collaboration, an end to the rivalry.”

“So you’re going to use Marinette for profit?” Adrien scrunched his nose, not at all liking the
sound of that. Marinette, as a baker’s daughter, was already starting from behind in terms of
finances and connections. How was that fair? Wouldn’t that add to her stress?

“Of course not, who do you take me for?” Chloe leaned back, looking as sweet as honey in her
golden gown, with her flowing silky hair and big blue eyes. At first glance, anyone might have
thought of her as an angel. Until she knocked the whisky back and said with a wicked smirk, “I’d
only be her fashion rival if she wants us to be. One-sided competition is rather pathetic. And
besides, I know my worth. I know I’m just as good as her, and I have been so terribly bored
winning all these young design awards, getting any offer from any large fashion house I’ve given a
second glance at. It’s nice to have to seriously try again.”

Adrien looked at her, really looked at her then, as she finished the last remnants of her whiskey.
There was an electric energy about her, her eyes crackled and she stood in the model equivalent of
a fighting stance as she stared at Marinette for one last time before bidding Adrien goodbye.

“Let the games begin!” she chuckled, disappearing into the crowd, and Adrien realised, he wasn’t
sure the last time he’d heard her laugh. Truly laugh, the way she just had. Perhaps he’d been too
wrapped up in his own personal things to not notice the absence of it. He vowed to check in on all
of his friends, including Chloe, more often.

But it was wonderful to see Chloe look so bright, so enthused and full of life, like she wasn’t just
waiting to be taken advantage of (he’d never liked Winifred) or treated like one of her mother’s
quick throwaway designs.

And it was all due to her. Marinette. Her magic, her influence, inspired everyone around her to be a
better version of themselves. Even Chloe. He fought a delighted laugh as an elderly designer,
whom Adrien knew as one of the former creative directors of Valentino before she’d retired,
gripped Marinette’s arm and steered her away from the rabble. Marinette’s eyes lit up in
recognition before the lady whispered in Marinette’s ear.

And Adrien? Well he would happily stand back and watch her flourish for the rest of the night,
content to stand by for whenever she needed him.

Until the plan was ready, of course.

Marinette’s head was in a total spin.

From the elegance of the gala itself, to her success on the runway and the way her friends reacted,
to now as she was surrounded by a group of people she’d admired her whole life, everything
seemed like a dream. Well, if it was, she never wanted to wake up. Prada, Gucci, Versace, Oscar de
la Renta, they were all here, talking to her, wanting to know about her dress, her design. No
Gabriel though. But that was alright. He’d stopped being her idol a long time ago.

And she seemed to be saying all the right things because they stayed and continued talking with
her!

Yep. Best night of her life. Hands down.

Others entered on the runway and soon the night was in full swing. She glanced over at the big,
empty dance floor, wondering why nobody was dancing yet.

“They’re waiting for our hosts,” a croaky voice spoke from beside her, grasping her elbow.
Marinette could barely process that Laura La Rosa, the Laura La Rosa of Valentino, was steering
her away from the crowd. The woman was ancient, tiny and impeccably dressed of course. The rest
of the group yielded to her instantly and allowed Marinette and Madame La Rosa some space.
“Our hosts will give a speech, then the dance floor will open.”

It was hard, so hard, not to blurt out the platitudes, the adorations; that Marinette had admired
Madame La Rosa since she even knew what fashion was, that she was overwhelmed by the
presence of a true fashion power house. She had to keep it cool. Here, these people weren’t famous
celebrities to be gasped and gawked at. Although her insides shook with the need to simply scream
out in joy, she had to remain calm.

“How did you know I was thinking that?” she asked instead.

La Rosa’s eyes glistened, silver to match her perfectly styled hair which was pulled back into an
elegant bob adorned with a tiny clip of jewels. A gift from her late husband, one she always
incorporated into her outfits, Marinette knew. “You come to pick things up in this industry,” she
said. “Body language. You must.”

A warning. A lesson. Marinette nodded. “I see.”

“Good,” La Rosa seemed pleased, glancing her up and down, and Marinette felt as if she was being
sized up. Better get used to that in the industry, she supposed. She’d had a fair share of experiences
like it, during competitions, when she applied for fashion schools, but never one on this level. It
was as if La Rosa was looking into her very soul, measuring if she was worthy or not. Marinette
wouldn’t let herself be cowed. She smiled, tilting her chin up and placing one hand casually into
her skirt pocket (she would never design a dress without them).

“Exquisite darling,” La Rosa said after a short time, and Marinette wanted to pass out. Instead, La
Rosa took Marinette’s forearm in her gloved hand and leaned into her ear. “The band has finished
warming up. Why don’t you go to that nice man and get the drink he’s so clearly bought you. The
rest of my peers will understand.”

Marinette’s head snapped up. Sure enough, there he was. Adrien. He offered a proud nod her way
and she felt traitorous heat spread up her whole body.

Before she knew what was happening, La Rosa nudged her away from the group just as Emilie
Agreste approached. She passed Marinette with a wink before heading up to the edge of the
runway, microphone in hand.

Arriving at Adrien’s side just as his mother began her speech, Marinette took the glass of wine he
offered her and the pair watched as a hush fell over the crowd. Emilie greeted all her guests
warmly, absolutely resplendent, and the crowd hung on her every word. It was a power few
possessed, and one Emilie wielded with a grace and humility which only made Marinette’s love for
the woman grow. She already loved Emilie, it was her fast thinking which had saved Marinette’s
life after all, and she had killed The Puppetmaster before he had a chance to harm anyone again.
But those were dark times. There, in the safety of the ballroom, Marinette came to see why others
loved her too, saw so much of her son in the humble way she expressed her gratitude, the way you
could see that her gentleness did not equal weakness.

Marinette was so glad the light inside Emilie had refused to go out the years she’d spent in
captivity.

The crowd began to applaud, the speech had ended, and Marinette realised a second too late.
Setting her glass down, she began clapping along with the rest of the crowd, but Adrien noticed.

“Everything alright?” he asked, once the crowd began floating to the outskirts of the dance floor.
“You seemed lost in thoughts.”

And boy was that an understatement. Thoughts. It was easy to get lost in them the memories of that
horrific day. But how could she possibly bring such things up when he didn’t know the full extent
of how much she knew? Besides, now wasn’t the time to dwell on such a terrible moment in their
shared histories. That was over now. They had a bright future ahead of them.
“Oh it was nothing,” she dismissed softly, taking a sip of her wine. Her eyes trailed to where
Emilie met Gabriel in the centre of the circular dance floor. “Your mum seems happy.”

Adrien immediately lit up and it was sweet, so sweet, the way he cared for her, doted on her after
everything she’d been through. “Yeah,” was all he replied, watching his parents.

The first strings began to play and Marinette recognised the notes, though she couldn’t put her
finger on it. An old love song?

“My mother requested that almost no classical music be played tonight. They’re all covers of
famous pop songs,” Adrien explained, and something flashed in his eyes. The corner of his lip
quirked and Marinette’s heart raced, though she had no idea why. Was he planning something?

They fell into silence again, watching Gabriel and Emilie open the party officially. For such an
awkward man, for a former villain (was he a villain, an anti-hero, or something else? Marinette had
wrestled with the morality of Gabriel’s intentions for the longest time but- gah!- again! Now
wasn’t the time) he was remarkably graceful on the dancefloor. As was customary, eventually
other couples joined the dance.

Marinette watched and, for a brief pause, felt a sense of melancholy tugging at her chest. She
wondered what Chat Noir would make of all of this. She knew he was wealthy, knew that from the
Cartier bracelet she wasn’t wearing tonight. But would he, his real identity, like these kinds of
events? Would he dance the night away with her? She knew he would make such fun of the stuffy
older gentleman, and probably make some weird puns about the food which would make her laugh
and relax.

She missed him, hated the whole mess they’d gotten into. Romantic entanglements aside, she
missed her partner so much. Where was he? Why had he had to return on the one night she’d been
drunk enough to tell him to stay away? Why had he stayed away from Ladybug too? She’d had her
theories but-

“Dance with me.”

Like the snip of scissors through string, Adrien’s words cut through the swirling nature of
Marinette’s thoughts, instantly silencing them. She looked to his outstretched hand, noticed the
tremor in his voice as she replayed his request in her head, over and over again.

Dance with me.

Dance with me.

Dance with me.

She shook her head, and Adrien’s hand lowered. It was difficult to not hate herself for
disappointing him, for upsetting him. But what would the other designers think? If they danced
together, wouldn’t it confirm the rumours of them being together? The Agreste PR team had said
that the excitement around her and Adrien’s alleged relationship had died down and actively
drawing attention to it (whether as a statement of denial like Adrien suggested, or showing up in
public together) would do more harm than good.

If Marinette was being honest though, that wasn’t the real reason she shook her head, the reason
she now backed away from him. How could she dance with someone who knowingly loved her?
How could she lead him on in such a way? It was cruel, despicable to even think of.
“I have to”- she stumbled over some excuse, any excuse, to get away from the sadness he was so
desperately trying to cover up. It was too much. All of this was too much. -”I have to use the
bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

She was hurrying, borderline running, before he could say anything in response. There was nothing
he could have said to convince her to stay anyway. With every step she took, her chest grew tighter
and tighter. She could feel her neck constricting, as if invisible hands wrapped around her, choking
her. Too much, too much, too much.

By some miracle the bathroom was empty. Marinette flung herself towards the cubicle nearest the
wall, but a hand gripped her wrist.

“Girl, what is going on with you?”

Alya. Without thinking Marinette turned around, bringing Alya further into the cubicle. Something
drastic must have been written on her face, as Alya went from bafflement to concern in the space of
a heartbeat. Tikki floated out from Mariette’s left pocket.

“Breathe, Marinette! It’s ok,” she encouraged.

“I can’t do this,” Marinette shook her head over and over again, as if replaying those last few
seconds with Adrien. “I can’t do this. He wants to dance with me! Dance! You know the thing that
couples do.”

“And friends, family members, heck even dogs?” Alya pressed. Sharing a look with Tikki, Alya
moved forward and rubbed Marinette’s bare arms up and down. Marinette sighed into the hard but
soothing touch. “Just do me a favour and focus on breathing for now, like Tikki said, and we can
work out the dumb boy stuff later.”

It took a few minutes for Marinette’s heartbeat to calm down. When she felt she had a better grip
on the world around her, she wrapped Alya in a warm hug. “Thanks,” she whispered. “That was so
stupid.”

“No you’re not being stupid!” Tikki protested, landing on her shoulder. “This is a big night for
you.”

“Tikki’s right. This is a big night for you, what with the runway and being flooded with praise from
your idols? Super proud of you by the way,” Alya added, fixing one of Marinette’s errant curls. “It
was bound to be overwhelming. That plus romantic drama. I was surprised you didn’t freak out
sooner, and that’s nothing against you, just that I would have thrown up the second I got off that
runway if I’d been you.”

Marinette couldn’t help but giggle. “I could never picture you doing that. You’re always so self
assured.”

“It’s called faking it until you make it, but even I have limits. Everyone has limits, and you’ve been
under a lot of pressure recently.”

“Too much pressure,” Tikki lightly scolded, and Marinette winced, knowing her kwami was upset
with how much of that pressure was self-inflicted.

Wandering towards the sinks, Marinette turned on the water and held her wrists underneath. The
shock of the icy cold against her skin calmed down the last remnants of her mini anxiety attack and
she sighed again. Sure she’d been under a lot of pressure recently. It was pressure of her own
making and it wasn’t over yet.
She thought of Adrien’s hand outstretched. Dance with me.

“So,” Alya chirped, elongating the syllable as she put her arms behind her body, feigning
nonchalance. “You ran away from Adrien when he asked you to dance becauuuse?”

Marinette frowned at her in the reflection of the mirror. “You know why. How can I dance with
him? He loves me Alya, I don’t want to lead him on or give him false hope. Besides, wouldn’t that
confirm the rumours of us being together?”

Once again, Alya and Tikki shared a look, and Marinette puffed out her cheeks in frustration. It felt
like they were in on a secret she wasn’t.

Alya was the first to speak. “Maybe. Maybe not. Adrien did say that most of the attendees tonight
let their hair down, so I don’t think they’ll be judging you too much aside from your outfit. Plus
there’s no press, just the official photographers and Emilie Agreste will decide which photos are
sent out. So you and I both know that’s not the real issue.”

Oh no. That was Alya’s investigative journalist voice. Marinette felt dread pool in her stomach.

“I think you want to dance with Adrien.”

“What?!”

“You heard me,” Alya grinned, caught between teasing and seriousness. “You wouldn’t have
freaked out and ran away from him if you didn’t care about it in the first place. See I think you
want to dance with him, and the reason you freaked out so much wasn’t about leading him on.”

“I think it’s because you feel guilty about Chat Noir,” Tikki added.

“That’s not-” Marinette tried to protest, but the words died on her tongue. Honestly? What was the
point of lying to Alya, to Tikki, to herself? She slumped against Alya with a groan. “Fine. Maybe.
I- I hate how things are unresolved there. I miss my partner. It feels… I don’t know. It feels wrong
somehow.”

“Marinette, it’s a dance. You aren’t cheating on Chat Noir by dancing with another guy. Especially
as you aren’t even really in a relationship,” Alya’s voice turned stern, a symbol of tough love.
Marinette winced again, knowing she needed the reality check. Still, dental appointments weren’t
exactly pleasant despite being necessary and the same sentiment was true here. “And listen, I love
Chat Noir. He’s a great guy usually. But quick question, where is he? Where’s he been? Adrien’s
been here the whole time, and you’ve both been through the same thing, his kidnapping, despite
Adrien not knowing it. There’s no harm in dancing with him. The guy isn’t so fragile that he’ll be
destroyed if you do decide you don’t want a romantic relationship with him. You know better than
that. You just won’t allow yourself to be happy.”

“Alya-” Marinette began, a lump forming in her throat. Not allow herself to be happy? “It’s not
that… It's not that I don’t want to be happy. I’m just… I’m just scared.” She swallowed painfully,
her throat dry. “The last time Chat Noir and I argued like this, the last time we were so out-of-sync,
we made a plan to take down Puppetmaster and- and it went all wrong. I”- her hand wandered to
her abdomen and Alya’s eyes widened- “They say that when a Ladybug and Chat Noir are out-of-
sync, bad things can happen. I don’t want anything bad to happen again. What if I’m not the one to
get hurt this time? What if it’s Chat Noir? What if I’m out here having the time of my life and he
decides to go on patrol and he gets hurt because we’re fighting and I don’t have his back? I… I…”

“Marinette…” Tikki said, her tone caught between heartbreak and comfort.
“Oh hon,” Alya tugged her into another embrace, and Marinette let herself be comforted, burying
her face into the shoulder of her childhood friend. The familiar scents of the rosewater mist Alya
used flooded her nostrils and she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s alright, it’s not really common knowledge is it?” Marinette let out a shaky laugh. She really
needed to get it together.

They stayed that way, silent and comforting. Alya held her a little bit tighter, the way she always
did when the topic of her near-death experience came up. Marinette thought it might be Alya’s way
of holding onto her, of making sure she was really there.

Eventually, Alya spoke up. “I know that last time you were out-of-sync something bad happened.
Here’s the thing, you aren’t taking down supervillains together or anything. There’s no major
danger. You’ll be able to fix it once you both find each other and talk, I’m positive about that. In
the meantime, you know there’s no harm in having fun. You do deserve to relax. That much is true
and… just trust Adrien, ok?” her face changed, eyebrows knitting as if she was trying to decide
what to say, how exactly to phrase things. “He’s worked hard on this evening, he wants things to go
well. And he definitely deserves to unwind and enjoy time with the people he loves, considering he
just got kidnapped for god’s sake.”

“And if anything bad does happen,” Tikki said, giving Marinette a little kiss on the cheek, “Which
it won’t, but if anything does, I’ll be here. I always am.”

Marinette pressed a little kiss to Tikki’s cheek in response. “Thanks. I know you are.”

She stared at the door. Adrien’s last words, dance with me, echoed in her mind again. Marinette
took a great, shuddering breath, shaking out the cobwebs as her mother would say.

“Ok,” she agreed.

“Good,” Alya grinned. “Then let's get some more champagne.”

When they arrived back near the dancefloor, Nino was there waiting. He’d grabbed them more
canapes in their absence, which they snacked on dutifully. Tikki decided to hide in Alya’s pocket
for the time being, giving Marinette and Adrien some privacy, and Alya snuck some of the sweeter
treats into her pocket when she was sure nobody was looking. Happy times, relax, Marinette
thought, don’t think about Chat Noir for once. It’ll be ok. Just have fun tonight, that’s why Adrien
invited you.

Speaking of Adrien (she cringed at her behaviour) she definitely owed him an apology for her
earlier stunt. Where was he?

Peering into the crowd, she couldn’t see him near the bar. That was the last place she’d left him.

“Oh you looking for Adrien?” Nino noticed her craning her head, and gestured towards the
dancefloor. “That terrifying blonde girl asked him to dance.”

Marinette wheeled about and, sure enough, there they were. Chloe and Adrien were dancing
gracefully, two people who’d obviously been trained. Classical music flowed through the air (not a
rendition of any pop song this time) and Marinette watched the pair glide around like they were
floating. Adrien said something to Chloe, quirking his lips, and she threw her head back, laughing
as she spun under his arm. Something painful twisted in Marinette’s gut at the sight.

“I’ll grab us some drinks,” she said, turning and taking her companions’ orders before wandering
over to the bar. It appeared others had the same idea, as the bar had gotten noticeably more
crowded since the last time she’d been close to it.

As she waited, other designers came and asked her more questions about her dress, which she
answered with a smile plastered onto her face. Her mind was not back on the dancefloor, her mind
was not thinking about the way Adrien held Chloe. They were childhood friends for goodness
sake! Plus Chloe talked about dating women- she could have been bi of course but- why did it
matter to her so much?! She ought to get a grip. Her hands tucked into her pockets and she released
a tense sigh.

At long last, she reached the bar and was able to order.

“I’ll get these.”

Chloe appeared by her side, flashing a card towards the bartender and ordering an extra drink for
herself. Marinette blinked, glancing back to the dance floor. “Oh, I thought you were dancing with
Adrien?”

Scoffing, Chloe tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and replied, “Only one dance. It’ll be
enough.”

Marinette didn’t quite have the guts to ask “enough for what?” so she simply thanked Chloe for
the drinks and left it at that. As the bartender poured their orders, Marinette waited to see why
Chloe had approached her. Her behaviour was curious, and Marinette found it strange that Chloe
acted almost as though she’d already been fully acquainted with her civilian self.

“You know Adrien talks about you a lot,” Chloe accused. “In fact, I feel like I know you already
with how he never shuts up about you. I must admit I’ve been curious about the one who caught
his attention so.”

Well that answered that question, Marinette thought as her cheeks turned crimson. Still, she
wouldn’t be cowed by Chloe. She’d seen the more vulnerable sides to her as Ladybug and knew a
lot of this was a front. Besides, she’d been intimidated by far bigger and far uglier characters,
though she knew she shouldn’t underestimate Chloe in any regard.

“Is your curiosity sated now?” Marinette rose a brow, grinning over her glass as she stared Chloe
down.

Chloe ran her eyes over Marinette’s dress again, clicking her tongue. “I suppose,” she agreed. “I
did have hopes he might be with someone else. But your runway skills are decent, if woefully
unschooled, and nobody can deny you have the beginnings of something good here,” she flicked
her hand to Marinette’s dress. “If Adrien is happy.”

“Gee, thanks,” Marinette replied dryly, wondering who the person Chloe wanted Adrien to be with
was. Though, knowing the little game they were playing, she wouldn’t have been surprised if that
was made up to get into her head.

Chloe’s eyes darkened and she put her drink on the bar, crossing her arms and jutting out her hip.
“Listen,” she said sharply. “I don’t know what your intentions are towards Adrien. I don’t know
what you feel for him. Frankly, I don’t care how you feel. But Adrien Agreste has been through
more than you will ever know. Whatever happens, he remains happy. He doesn’t go through any
more pain. You do not hurt him. Or you answer to me and trust me”- she leaned in close, hissing
through her teeth- “you really don’t want to answer to me.”

As Chloe leaned back, Marinette let her words sink in.

“I wouldn’t ever want to hurt him,” Marinette replied, staring at her drink.

“Good,” replied Chloe, standing back upright with a huff.

“Adrien’s lucky to have a friend like you,” Marinette smiled at her, meaning it.

“Oh do shut up,” Chloe rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the pleased glint in them, nor the way
her lips turned up ever-so-slightly.

It was then that a beautiful brown haired woman, no doubt a model, approached Chloe from the
side. Suddenly, Marinette realised what Chloe had meant when she said one dance with Adrien
would be enough. Without a second glance, Chloe left the bar to go and dance with her new
partner, leaving Marinette alone to dissect what the hell conversation they’d just had.

So everyone was really out here thinking they were a couple huh? Regardless of Adrien’s PR team,
regardless of how much they both tried to deny it. What did it matter, here, if she danced with her
friend? What did it matter? Alya was right, Adrien danced with his friends. He’d danced with
Chloe. Peering through the crowd, she could see him back on the dancefloor dancing with Nino (if
you could call some strange version of the funky chicken dancing). She laughed at the sight and
took another sip of her drink, tasting the bitter-sweetness of it.

Really, she’d been too wrapped up in her emotions, so desperate to work things out with Chat Noir
in fear of things going wrong again. It wasn’t until her conversation with Alya that she realised the
full extent of those fears.

But tonight, this Gala, wasn’t the night to deal with such things. For her own sake, for the sake of
those around her, she had to forget about Chat Noir. Just for a night, just for a moment. She thought
of her partner, really thought of him, and realised that he wouldn’t have wanted her to worry like
this anyway. He would want her to enjoy herself. Chat Noir had always been her loudest
cheerleader, when the world hadn’t even known she needed one. He’d be rooting for her to have a
good time.

I’ll be here when you get back, she imagined him saying, giving her a nudge of encouragement and
sending her on her way.

Finishing her own drink, she grabbed the ones she’d ordered for Nino and Alya and wandered
through the crowd. Finally, she glanced up.

The large, cavernous room had been decorated so beautifully. Not so lavishly as to invoke
Versaille or anything outlandish, but delicately so. The purple flowers, the fine tablecloths, the soft
lighting, all were understated and beautiful. Like a spring morning. Emilie had such wonderful
taste. All around her were people living lives to their fullest, dancing and laughing, drinking and
celebrating.

Marinette smiled, and a weight she hadn’t known was there lifted from her chest.

“I sure do know how to pick them,” Alya laughed as Marinette approached her. She was staring at
the dancefloor, watching as Nino and Adrien moved from a slow funky chicken to an even slower
version on the Macarena. She took a large swig of her drink, snorting as Nino caught her eye and
sashayed his hips before he leapt and turned back to Adrien. “I’m going to marry that man one
day.”

“Oh for sure,” Marinette agreed. “Never had any doubt about that. Every group needs at least one
sane couple.”
Alya raised her eyebrow, thrusting her chin back towards the dance floor and Marinette knew
exactly what she was thinking.

“Sane in that you can say you love each other and not have severe mental breakdowns,” Marinette
added.

“Hey,” Alya nudged her playfully, “I don’t care for historical revisionism. You know Nino and I
were just as much of a mess as any one of you drama queens. We just sorted our shit out earlier.”

“True I guess,” Marinette hummed, noticing as the music came to a close and the crowd began to
applaud. She handed Nino’s drink to Alya. “Speaking of ‘sorting my shit out’...”

She approached the dancefloor, trying to ignore the way her heart began to hammer in her chest.
Adrien had asked her first, he wouldn’t reject her now would he?

But what if I humiliated him? Running off like that!

When she passed Nino, he must have seen something on her face as he gave her an encouraging
pair of finger guns. She barely noticed though, not with the way Adrien was looking at her, like she
was water in a desert. Marinette tried to smile, tried to pretend, but nerves struck her too fiercely to
pretend at that moment. Considering she was used to lying through her teeth, this surprised her.
Butterflies danced in her chest, trying to escape the fire coursing through her body as she met his
eyes. Green. Gorgeous. He was utterly gorgeous in that tux.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out gracelessly. “I did want to dance with you. I was just- everything was
just so overwhelming.” She waved her hand over her dress, then towards the runway. “But that’s
no excuse and I-”

The music began again, and Marinette wondered when she’d lowered her head to the floor to stare
at it. Adrien was in her space, finger under her chin as he lifted it up. She followed his lead. Their
eyes met and Adrien was smiling. He took his hand from under chin, offered it to her in a wordless
question.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. Her friend was asking her to dance and she couldn’t
breathe.

But she took his hand anyway.

“I’m a bad dancer,” she said as they twirled around the dance floor. “I’m sorry if I step on your
feet.”

“Wait, how does that work?” Adrien replied, teasing, keeping their bodies a respectable distance
from each other. Marinette remembered dances she’d been to as a young teen, and the more
overprotective parents would watch eagle-eyed for any smidgeon of body contact. “You were a pro
at DDR and yet you're a bad dancer?”

Marinette chuckled, giving his hand a playful squeeze. “That’s different, there are clearer rules to
follow in DDR, more instructions and everything, patterns to learn which you can learn alone,
without anyone watching you mess up,” she glanced away from him. “I don’t know what the rules
are here.”

“Marinette?” his voice, so achingly gentle she barely heard it over the music, caused her to lift her
head up to him. He gestured between them both. “You don’t have to worry about the rules with
me.”
He twirled her under his arm and Marinette spun away from him. When she lifted her hands, he
caught them, and with her back to him Marinette had a moment, one moment, to catch her breath.
His strong chest pressed against hers and she swallowed thickly before twirling back to face him.

“Yes I do,” she whispered, voice cracking.

Adrien was silent, mulling over her words. Throat tight, Marinette tried to read his expression, the
way his eyebrows knit together in thought. The world felt heavy around them. Maybe it was a
mistake to dance? It felt… it felt right though. Together, they weren’t missing a single step. It was
as if they could read each other’s signals instantly. This was the best she’d danced with anyone.

She didn’t want to stop.

Before she could contemplate what that meant, Adrien looked down at her again and her breath
caught once more. Was that mischief dancing in his eyes?

“No,” he countered. “You don’t.”

Without warning, he broke their step, capturing Marinette’s waist in his large hands and lifting her
high in the air. Unable to help it, Marinette let out a squeal.

“What are you doing?” she called down to him, bracing her hands on his shoulders. Other people
turned to stare at them.

“Not following the rules,” he grinned up at her and he began to spin. The dance floor blurred
around them, and Marinette could no longer pick out the faces in the crowd, so she looked back
down. Adrien’s well-groomed hair was beginning to look a little wild, his cheeks were flushed in
delight. Taking great strides, he spun and spun. “Whee!”

Marinette burst out laughing. “Whee!” she replied.

When he’d done a full circle of the dancefloor, Adrien set her back down. Marinette’s hands slid
from his shoulders, to behind his neck. There was no longer any space between them. Deep down,
she knew she ought to pull away.

For the first time all night, she stopped thinking about rules, stopped thinking about other people,
and only thought about what she wanted to do.

She rested her head on Adrien’s chest, smiling.

“Thank you.”

Nino and Alya danced past them, and Nino gave him a thumbs up.

Adrien felt like his whole body was glowing with happiness, starting with the warm weight against
his shoulder. All the tense knots in his body loosed and he closed his eyes, resting his head against
Marinette’s as their dance turned soft and swaying. The scent of her perfume, the shampoo she
used, floated in the air and he exhaled. This was it. This was where he was meant to be. This was
what everything was for.

Being apart from her just didn’t make sense.

They continued to sway together as the first song faded into another. Adrien barely noticed the
song change, but Marinette must have opened her eyes. Whatever she noticed made her laugh.
“Those two,” she mumbled fondly.

Adrien lifted his head to follow her line of sight. Nino and Alya were dancing as if they were old
aristocrats, arms out stiff, cheeks puffed out pompously. When they twirled past again, Adrien
caught snippets of conversations about cake interspersed with the two cracking up. After having
their fun, they settled into a more serious flow, and the love in the couple’s eyes made Adrien’s
chest ache in the best of ways.

“They really are relationship goals,” he agreed.

“Well they spent so long dancing around each other!” Marinette snorted, “I’m glad they’re
dancing together now. I always thought they’d be a great couple.”

Adrien said nothing, instead choosing to squeeze her hand, his other was around her waist. The
words were pushing against his mouth, desperate to come out, what about us? What about when I
tell you the truth? Will you still need space? We could be so good together.

He clamped his jaw shut. Now wasn’t the time.

Marinette squeezed his hand back and electricity jolted through him at the touch. He allowed
himself to hope, like he’d never hoped before, that this could work. Nino’s words of
encouragement echoed in his head, that he was worthy beyond being Chat Noir. He hoped
Marinette would see it that way.

Speaking of Nino, as the second song ended, he cast his eyes towards Adrien in a silent
conversation. Turning away from the dancefloor, he and Alya disappeared into the crowd. Adrien
knew what was happening, what Nino was setting off to do, and fought the shiver of anticipation
which threatened to wreck his whole body. It was almost time.

“I know I’m being greedy,” he began, as the string quartet picked up its tempo, and he realised
what song was about to play. It was one he’d requested. “But one more dance?”

For a second, he saw a brief flash of uncertainty cross Marinette’s features. Was she still worried
about the rumours of their relationship? The urge to protect her rose from the depths of his soul,
and he was about to assure her that anyone trying to spread things or start trouble would answer to
him.

The uncertainty vanished and she beamed up at him. “One more dance.”

Once again, they twirled across the floor. The quartet had finished the introduction and the first
notes of the pop song they covered rang through the hall. Adrien smirked, waiting for Marinette to
cotton on.

It didn’t take long. They spent so much time at the Gaming Club, certain music was instantly
recognisable. Marinette’s eyes widened, her jaw dropped. “Wait, is this-?”

“Yep,” Adrien huffed a laugh as he spun Marinette under his arm. “I put it on their list.”

Marinette's face burst into a smile which could have lit the entire room with its radiance . “Well
then, Monsieur Agreste,” she purred and Adrien was about three seconds from melting into a
puddle when she quirked her eyebrow in a challenge. “Shall we show them all how it's done?”

“With pleasure,” Adrien growled playfully.

And there, right there on that dance floor, Adrien was once again reminded why he fell in love with
Marinette as quickly as he had. It had once caught him off guard, how strong and sudden his
feelings had struck him. But, hands held, spinning and dipping, replicating a few of their DDR
moves without caring how silly it might have looked to others, he knew why. With Chat Noir, he
had a freedom he’d never experienced with Adrien before…until he’d met her. Marinette, the
Gaming Club, his new friends, they embraced him fully, accepted him into their group. Marinette
was strong and sweet, klutzy and intelligent, funny and fierce. He found a kindred spirit in her
contradictions.

Eventually the song ended. Red faced and breathless, the pair applauded along with the crowd.

“I think I have to rest my feet now!” Marinette whispered to him, “I feel like I’m pushing my luck
with how I haven’t tripped over yet.”

Adrien offered her his arm and escorted her to an empty table. Pulling out the chair for her, he sat
down next to her, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“What?” Marinette responded, matching his smile.

What indeed? What could he say in that moment without completely giving himself away?

“I like dancing with you,” he replied simply, honestly.

Marinette coughed. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand floated down and disappeared
into her pocket. “Yes, well,” she said, staring at the tablecloth. “I’ve never danced with anyone like
I do with you.”

All the remaining air swept out of Adrien’s chest. His fingers twitched, yearning to reach out and
hold her close once again. They were halfway to her before he realised what he was doing.
Marinette stared at him, curiosity brimming in her eyes, and he held back. At the last second, he sat
up, covering his movements by taking off his jacket instead.

“It is hot in here, isn’t it?” Marinette agreed as he hung the jacket on the back of his chair.

“You have no idea,” he mumbled, twisting back around to face her as visions of their dancing,
among other memories, flashed in his mind. Why the hell was he torturing himself?

“What?” Marinette asked.

“What?” he responded, causing Marinette to snort. She smirked, and he got the feeling she was
about to tease him when someone caught his eye across the hall.

Nino.

He stood up so quickly it felt as if his heart remained in his seat.

“Is something wrong?” Marinette asked.

Adrien shook his head. “No, everything is fine,” he replied, absentmindedly reaching down and
kissing her hand. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Without thinking, he raced off, knowing exactly what Nino was saying to him without exchanging
a word.

The plan was ready.

The city skyline never looked quite so lovely as it did that night.

As Adrien stood on the rooftop, gazing at the culmination of all of their efforts, he felt a lump rise
in his throat.

“So, so?” Nino elongated his words, grinning slyly. “We did good, eh?”

Adrien was so stuck on how the layers upon layers of flowers decorated the makeshift picnic area,
the little tea lights fluttering in the gentle breeze, the wine and the snacks, that he’d almost missed
the last part of Nino’s sentence.

“We?” Adrien shook his head. “No, man, we made this plan together but it’s you who set this all
up. It looks so nice, where did you get the fairy lights?”

“From mine and Alya’s room,” Nino replied, shifting from foot to foot. He scratched the back of
his head. “Listen dude, when I said we I didn’t mean you and me. Alya helped me too.”

The horror must have shown on Adrien’s face, because Nino immediately began waving his arms.
“She doesn’t know about you being Chat Noir! She just knows you want to tell Marinette how you
feel about her. I made her promise not to tell. But you know how Alya is, she’s a prodigy journalist
and I’m a terrible liar when it comes to her. She knew something was up, so I had to give her
something or she would have kept prodding.”

Adrien leaned against the door which led back down to the Gala, hand pressed against his chest.
He tried to breathe.

“You sure she won’t tell Marinette?”

“Positive,” Nino confirmed, moving towards Adrien and slamming a comforting hand onto his
shoulder. “She’s rooting for you. We both are. That’s why she’s trying to distract Marinette
downstairs right now. Still, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien said and he meant it. Nino did the best he could under difficult
circumstances and, with two friends now to watch his back and help him, he felt more secure after
the initial blip of panic. “I owe you both so much.”

“Nah,” Nino scoffed, wiping his brow. “It’s nothing to bring two people together. Marinette was
there for Alya and I when we were going through all this stuff. It’s nice to return the favour.”

Adrien grinned at that, taking in the scene before him. He hoped Marinette wouldn’t be too
overwhelmed by it, like she had been with their dancing at first. Maybe that was the crowds
though. Regardless, he’d show her this and give her the choice whether or not to stay and hear him
out. His thoughts were that, after the initial mad rush of the ball, after she’d been given time to
show off her amazing skills, he could take her away to privately confess. But he had wanted his
confession to be somewhere completely quiet, somewhere nobody could overhear them but
somewhere romantic too.

That’s when he’d gotten the idea of a rooftop picnic. But it was Nino, and now he knew Alya too,
who had helped him put it all together.

“So what do you think Plagg?” Nino asked, swirling around the scene. “Did ya boy do good or
what? Come on judge me, I know you want to.”

Silence.
“Plagg?”

Adrien lurched from his spot on the wall, the colour draining from his face.

Plagg was downstairs, in his jacket.

The lucky charm was with him.

Hanging on a chair next to Marinette.

Wow. Things sure are getting rowdy, Marinette thought, torn between surprise and amusement.

After a few more dances with Alya, Marinette took in the sight of everyone around her. The
dancing was less coordinated, the laughter more raucous, everything was a little bit less tidy than it
was before. Adrien was right, it really was a chance for everyone to let their hair down. The
photographers weren’t around nearly as much either.

“What happens at the Gala really does stay at the Gala!” Marinette called to Alya about the music.

“Yeah well what happens next is we need to sit down. Curse these damn heels,” Alya responded,
hopping off the dancefloor with one foot clutched in her hand.

“You were the one that chose to wear them,” Marinette teased. She wrapped her arm around her
friend, offering her support as Tikki snuck from Alya’s pocket back to Marinette’s. The bouncing
must have been aggravating her.

“Oh yeah, blame me for my good taste,” Alya clicked her tongue, putting her foot back to the floor
with a grimace. Unable to help herself, Marinette giggled. Yep. Alya was definitely tipsy, tipsier
than Marinette which was saying something considering Marinette was a notorious lightweight
with certain drinks. But, no matter how many reassurances Adrien had given her, she didn’t want to
drink too much tonight. First impressions mattered.

That didn’t seem to be a problem on the other side of things though. Some people were starting to
get very drunk indeed. Not to the point of some of the more horrendous scenes Marinette had seen
during student nights out, but still eye-opening considering the type of guests in attendance. From
the bar, Madame La Rosa’s eyes met hers and she raised a glass in Marinette’s direction. She was
the only one who looked stone cold sober, yet looks could be deceiving.

“Come on you,” Marinette encouraged, glancing back at their sadly empty table. Adrien hadn’t
returned yet. Her hand still tingled from where he’d kissed her so absent-mindedly, like it was
second nature for him to be affectionate.

She tried not to think about that too much, about all the questions that tingling inspired. Luckily,
she had Alya’s weight pressing at her side, keeping her grounded in the moment.

Alya hopped onto the chair Marinette had previously sat on with a big sigh, tilting her head back.
“You’re amazing, thank you for rescuing me and my poor feet.”

They both chuckled at that, and Marinette grabbed the chair beside Alya, fingers brushing against
Adrien’s jacket, which he’d left behind in his haste. “You know me, if I’m not rescuing someone
every hour I’d simply”-

She never got to finish her sentence. As she pulled out Adrien’s vacated chair, the brunette model
Chloe had danced with earlier came stumbling into her. Tripping over her own skirts, the model
lurched forwards, colliding with Marinette’s side with a force that caught Marinette completely off
guard. The drink, which the model had been holding, went flying and splattered half on the chair,
half on Adrien’s jacket.

“I’m so sorry,” the model gasped, utterly contrite, glancing down at the wet jacket in Marinette’s
hand. “Oh no, please send me the dry cleaning bill! I will pay of course.”

Faltering, Marinette wasn’t sure what to do. The jacket was Adrien’s and she couldn’t speak on his
behalf, but at the same time she couldn’t deny the offer. What if Adrien did want the model to pay
for the dry cleaning? Though that didn’t sound like him at all.

As if sensing drama, Chloe swooped in from some unknown location, taking the model by the arm.
“If Adrien wants his dry cleaning paid for over a silly mistake, he can come and talk to me about
it,” she said simply, and Marinette wondered if she was trying to help the situation, or daring her to
disagree. “Come along, Ivy.”

“I’m sorry again!” Ivy replied as Chloe whisked her away.

“It’s ok,” Marinette waved them both off, then gave her hand a little shake. Some of the alcohol
had gotten onto her too, but thankfully none on her dress.

Once Chloe and Ivy were fully out of earshot, Alya leaned in and asked, “How bad is it?”

“It doesn’t look so bad,” Marinette picked up the jacket and turned it over in her hands. A bit of a
splodge here, but it should come out with a dry clean. Thank goodness it wasn’t red wine!”

“Speaking of red wine,” Alya groaned, stretching her limbs. “My feet are recovered enough and
I’m craving another drink, want one?”

Humming, Marinette responded, “I think I’ll give the next round a miss.”

“Suit yourself,” Alya shrugged and wandered off to the bar, only half-wincing this time. Marinette
admired her friend’s speedy recovery time, before turning her attention back to the jacket.

It really was a stunningly made piece. Mens suits were notoriously difficult to make interesting, at
least in her limited experience, so the opportunity to admire the embroidery around the sleeves up
close was too tempting not to miss. She avoided the deep side pockets though, as he might have
important things in there and she didn’t want to invade Adrien’s privacy.

As she twisted the jacket around to face the back, her fingers slipped and the jacket clattered to the
floor.

“Shoot,” Marinette said, leaning down, then cursed further when she noticed something had fallen
out of Adrien’s pocket. So alcohol and possible dirt were added to the poor jacket. As Marinette
reached under the table for the small thing, she hoped she didn’t have to explain why whatever it
was was broken too.

At last her fingers brushed against the item and she curled her hand around it. It felt like…beads?
String? Some kind of watch or bracelet? Standing up, she began to tuck the item back into his
inside pocket, not wanting to pry any further…

Until the object caught the light, and she realised exactly what she was holding.

Adrien didn’t think he’d run so fast in his entire life. Not in his civilian form at least. He ran back
 down the stairs with such speed, it was as if he was floating rather than running. His mind was
blank in its panic to get back to the table, even as Nino’s reassurances attempted to break through.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine! It’s a jacket on a chair, nobody’s going to touch it!”

But Nino’s voice was far away, nearly halfway up the stairwell as Adrien was already down at the
bottom. It took every ounce of his willpower not to burst back into the ballroom, but that trained
part of him took over and he slowed his pace to an important stride. Plagg would be able to hide
himself if anyone went snooping, but the Lucky Charm didn't have such a luxury.

Nobody tried to grab his attention or, if they did, he was too focused to notice. I have to find her,
she can’t discover it this way, she can’t-

At last, the crowds parted and he spotted the table where Marinette still waited for him.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Over one arm, Marinette had draped his jacket.

And in the other?

It was the bracelet. The lucky charm she’d gifted Chat Noir what seemed like a lifetime ago, the
lucky charm he was going to ask her to put on him, should she have accepted who he was.

Adrien couldn’t breathe.

Then, as if sensing his presence from across the room, Marinette looked up. Their eyes met and
Adrien watched, despite the distance which separated them, as all of the pieces click into place
behind her eyes. He was helpless to stop it.

There was no denying it now. Marinette knew.

Marinette knew he was Chat Noir.

Chapter End Notes

Don't be too mad about the cliffhanger! I know you're all going to yell at us for it but it
really was the perfect place to end it (and it was getting very long haha)

Aside from that, what was your favourite part of the chapter? ^_^ /I'm always
interested in theories! What do you think will happen next?

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