7Marinette scowled at the fading scarlet cap that almost struck her chin as the wearer jerked their head suddenly. Several loose stitches on the visor indicated that the cap had been well-loved, or just poorly taken care of, and she imagined yanking it from the unsuspecting stranger's head and shoving it down Adrien Agreste's throat.
Her more logical conscience immediately discarded the vision with reminders that she was currently on public transport and the last thing she needed was to be seen harassing a celebrity. Grumbling quietly, she pointedly ignored the blond who sat rigidly beside her.
Lord was he annoying today. And awkwardly adorable. But mostly just getting on her already frayed nerves, which had yet to recover from the weekend. And of course, she'd forgotten her headphones today of all days.
After enduring an excruciating lecture thanks to her new self-proclaimed study buddy, she'd practically bolted from the lecture hall and rushed onto the bus that had just pulled into the bay. Her momentary relief had lasted all but one precious minute as the flustered ex-model sprinted on after her, flashing a winning smile at the unamused bus driver. He'd then marched down the small aisle and plopped himself into the empty seat beside her, and Marinette had probably squeaked or some other heinous reaction.
His panting, however, had brought a small smirk of victory to Marinette's face. She knew she could be speedy if a situation called for it.
"Damn, you're fast," he'd breathed, holding out her prized fountain pen.
"You dropped this," he'd added, grinning somewhat mischievously when Marinette snatched it out of his grasp with an indignant gasp and zipped it into the front pocket of her cotton candy-coloured bag.
She'd packed her area early, preparing to boost it as soon as the lecture ended, so she wasn't sure how he'd managed to snatch it. She could hardly accuse him of sticky fingers though, not after all the lengths she went through when she'd been obsessed with Adrien back in junior high. Her face had heated at the reminder.
"Is your favourite colour still pink?" She hadn't dignified that question with a response yet, though he didn't seem offended. Instead, he'd tapped away on his phone as she scolded herself for still getting flustered around him.
The person with the worn cap rose from their seat and Marinette wondered for a split second if she should get off at this stop and walk the rest of the way home just to escape Adrien. Too soon, the bus glided back into the traffic and Marinette sighed, resting her elbow on the low window frame, deciding it was for the best so she'd get home quicker. It landed with a familiar click on the button that indicated someone needed to get off at the next stop, and she cringed, hoping that someone would disembark.
Adrien chuckled, and when Marinette directed her glare at him, he simply grinned back. He made no mention of her mistake, but Marinette bristled. Flipping a middle finger at him, she pointedly looked outside just as the bus drove past her parent's bakery.
Some minutes later, her breath held and her head ducked, she heard the bus doors slide open. To her relief, it sounded like several people exited the vehicle at the respective stop. Picking at the chipped midnight-blue nails on one hand, she considered her 'AA-CN-LB' predicament.
The morning after the unexpected reunion, Alya had challenged Marinette on her reasoning for avoiding Adrien this long. She'd been pissed that Marinette hadn't even mentioned that he was in one of her classes, and blurted, "Look, girl, I love you, and I thought that I understood the Ladybug thing, but I draw the line at you needlessly hurting Adrien because of whatever happened years ago!"
Flabbergasted, Marinette had only muttered that Alya didn't understand, to which they'd returned to the ongoing argument that had circulated their friendship; Marinette's secrecy and Alya's intrusiveness.
That hadn't been a pleasant afternoon - now a couple of days ago - and Alya had eventually instigated the waterfall of apologies.
Marinette knew that her best friend's concern was valid and that it came from a place of genuine care for her, but she just couldn't explain to her why. Absently, she could acknowledge that she was in self-preservation mode. The fright that had been her brush with a potential future had rooted itself into her bones, triggering her fight-or-flight responses. She knew this. But she also knew that she was responsible for –
With a jolt, she slammed her fingers on the stop button just as it drove down the familiar street. The bus jerked to a stop and she almost fell into Adrien's lap from her half-standing position. With a timid acknowledgment to the driver, she ungracefully scrambled past Adrien's knees, frustrated when he stood up along with her. Face flushing as her nose was now poking his shoulder, she leaned her hands against his chest to squeeze between him and the seats in front of them, finally stumbling into the aisle.
Thoroughly embarrassed, she fumbled for her wallet, relieved that this was one of the last stops on the route, or else someone might have received a good whack from her fairly packed bag.
Adrien followed her.
"What are you doing?" she hissed over the beep of the card reader. As she stepped down onto the pavement, she dimly heard him do the same and thank the driver. Caught between wanting to march off and being polite, she tapped her foot impatiently, fingers tightening on her bag strap.
"So, uh, which way to yours?" Adrien asked cheerfully, rubbing the back of his neck. His own bag was slung over one shoulder, and he tried to hold her gaze.
"What do you mean?" Marinette sputtered, body turned in the direction of the apartment. He ambled up beside her, looking confused.
"Oh, did Alya not tell you? Nino and I are having dinner with you guys…" he trailed off uncertainly as Marinette reached for her phone furiously. It was dead, which explained why she hadn't received a notification. Stuffing it back into the pocket of her wide-leg jeans, she growled and swept a hand across her face.
"You better be telling the truth," she muttered, marching off toward the apartment block. Usually, she'd pop into the thrift store on the other side of the road to poke through donated fabrics, but she didn't want to be alone with him for longer than necessary.
"Would I lie to you?" he said softly, walking on her left. It was said jokingly, but Marinette's heart clenched.
Shaking her head to clear it of the growing guilt, she ignored the question and fished her keys from her bag, clutching them tightly. Opting to take the stairs so she didn't have to suffer the tense silence of an elevator ride, she led them into the building, heading for the recently re-carpeted staircase. Seventy-four steps later, she turned sharply into a dimly lit hallway, unlocked the third door on the right, and flung it open, calling out to Alya.
"Your guest has arrived!" she hollered, hanging the sparse key chain on an empty hook to her left, and observing the variety of ingredients that littered the kitchen bench. A store-bought cake confirmed to Marinette that Nino was there. Alya knew that she disliked store-bought baking.
The pair emerged from Alya's bedroom with lightly flushed faces and Marinette rolled her eyes.
"Couldn't wait for tonight, huh?" she snickered as she passed Alya on the way to her room at the end of the hall. She heard Nino greeting Adrien loudly.
"Nice to see you, too, Mari," Alya retorted airily, smoothing the rusty red playsuit that Marinette had made for her. "I see you got my text."
"Actually, my phone died," she muttered. "so this stalker," she continued, with a jerk of her thumb over her shoulder, "chased me out of class and followed me home"
"Oooo how romantic!" Alya cooed, eyes creasing with laughter. Marinette only scoffed and moved on toward her haven.
"I'm making lasagne for dinner!" Alya called behind her and Marinette almost scraped her fist against the wall in an effort to give an affirmative thumbs-up.
"Kay, mom!" she yelled back.
Dropping the backpack on the floor of her room, she kicked the door shut and fell onto the unmade bed, nearly faceplanting on a pile of clean clothes that had been unceremoniously tossed near the frame. With effort, she managed to roll over so she was staring at the light bulb that hung above the bed. Bringing a dark blue pillow over her face, she screamed into it.
As she sat up, the pillow fell to the floor and she almost kicked it in frustration. Instead, she spied her bluetooth speaker on the shelf and decided to have a shower. Perhaps that would give her ample time to prepare for the upcoming event which was having to endure another meal with Adrien Agreste.
Selecting a playlist that tended to convey frustration, she allowed Linkin Park's 'LOST IN THE ECHO' to blast as she ambled toward the bathroom. She sung along with the lyrics while the shower water heated up and blushed at the thought that her old crush was a couple rooms away from her.
Obsession, she corrected herself. Because that's all it had been. Fourteen-year-old Marinette had certainly entertained the thought of being in love, and her friends at the time certainly hadn't helped, but much contemplation had helped her conclude that she'd been shamelessly obsessed with the Agreste heir. The regular reminder, often in the form of billboards and magazine covers, made her cringe.
She stepped under the scorching water just as someone thumped on the bathroom door. Pressing the lever toward the wall, she stepped out of the shower, lowered the volume of the music, and slid the door open with a growl.
An embarrassing squeak escaped her as the small slit revealed a flustered Adrien. He was rubbing the back of his neck again, and Marinette demanded what he wanted so they could both be on their way.
"Um, Alya wanted to know if you were joining us for dinner?" His gaze was fixed on her face and Marinette flushed as she remembered that she was naked with only the door as her barrier.
Instead of responding to him directly, she yelled "Als, I already said I would be there!"
"No, you didn't!" came the muffled response.
She smiled sweetly at Adrien. "Well, you can tell her 'yes'," she said, sliding the door back and locking it with force.
Shitshitshitshit
Not giving herself the time to dwell on the mortification of her situation, she increased the volume of 'The Great Escape' which was now well into the second verse. Charging back under the falling water, she allowed the lyrics and the beat to wash over her, wishing for probably the hundredth time that Bunnyx's burrow would appear before her. What would she have to do before she could be whisked away to a timeline that didn't suck?
The universe hated her, she was sure of it.
What had she done in a previous life that she had to be tormented so? Receiving the Ladybug miraculous had been the best thing to happen to her and then she'd witnessed the future - something she'd played an active part in.
Despite Bunnyx's reassurance that the horrible timeline had been erased, Marinette was terrified of that future becoming reality. And now Adrien fucking Agreste was standing in her apartment, undoing all her precious work. All the practiced nonchalance, escape plans, painstaking avoidance, and breakdowns would be for nothing.
How fucking dare he waltz back into her life when she'd hand-crafted the bars that should have kept him out? How dare he flash his innocent smile and adoringly rub the back of his neck and drop into the seat beside her in class and lamely ask about the weather and look at her curiously and make a godforsaken pun and whisper how it had been nice to see her again on the weekend and look so sad and hurt and-
Dimly, Marinette acknowledged that he had every right to be hurt, but that didn't change the fact that his very presence was terrifying her.
What if Chat Noir saw them together?
She facepalmed, splashing water in her eyes.
There was no way Chat Noir would even care, anyway.
She choked on a sob, bitterly recalling how Rena had shoved the miraculous box in his hands before bounding away. Alya, her ever-faithful friend, had finally relented and helped her plan her departure, and Marinette hated that she was such a coward. She couldn't even face him. She'd been hiding on the lower balcony of the Eiffel Tower when she'd heard his verbal confusion slowly giving way to heart-wrenching sobs.
She'd heard from Alya that the superhero group had disbanded not long after, due to Chat's inability to lead. He'd gone on a two-week rampage to find her, apparently, and that frightened Marinette even more.
Had she done the right thing? What if, by attempting to prevent the bleak future she'd been privy to, she was driving their own timeline toward it? She'd held her breath every time she heard the news about Chat Noir's "strange" antics. She still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Hawkmoth hadn't taken advantage of the situation and akumatised him, but it seemed that he hadn't made an appearance either.
See, she'd spat to a deeply concerned Alya, three weeks after no akumatisations. Ladybug just needed to disappear and the Hawkmoth would give up! Shows how useless she was.
She'd been inconsolable for a week.
Another light knock on the door snapped Marinette out of her stupor. Someone called through the door that dinner would be ready in 10 minutes and Marinette realised with a start that her hour-long playlist had ended and that at some point she'd turned the water off.
Shivering, she hollered a weak affirmation and stumbled out of the shower, wrapping her towel around her. Instead of putting her old clothes back on, she bolted out of the bathroom to her room, thankful that no one had been loitering in the hallway.
Now decked out in her comfiest pajamas and socks, she ambled into the kitchen where the small table had been set. Alya faltered when she saw her, and the dropped cutlery clattered on the tabletop, turning the heads of the two men who were chatting in the kitchen, preparing a salad by the looks of it.
Marinette was embarrassed as Alya instantly wrapped her into a hug, but sunk her head into Alya's shoulder.
Once, Alya had commented that Marinette always wore these pajamas when she was particularly stressed. She supposed that observation was true to some degree, as the set were the only hand-made clothes she'd kept in a previous rampage to dispose of anything resembling her teenage years. Granted, she'd been wearing the pajamas during that breakdown, and while she regretted her outburst, she was glad she'd kept them.
Adrien set the salad bowl on the table across from her. He offered a soft smile as Alya released her and instructed her to sit, which Marinette did with an exaggerated huff.
"Lincoln Park, huh?" Marinette's cheeks flamed at the unintentional reminder of rudely slamming the door in his face.
"Yeah," she mumbled, picking at a loose thread in the tablecloth. She hesitated before looking at him fully. "And… sorry for…" For ignoring you for the sake of the world? "...being a bitch."
Adrien made a noise of amusement as he pulled out the chair across from her.
"You? A bitch? Never." he said firmly, and Marinette felt her face scrunch up with the tell-tale promise of tears. The chair scraped on the hard floor as Adrien scrambled to stand up and then he was crouched beside her as her shoulders shook and her head fell in her hands.
"What did I do?" he whispered in alarm, his warm breath close to her ear. Alya was saying something and she dimly heard the thud of things being placed on the table and then there were hands rubbing soothing circles along her back.
"Let it all out," Alya was murmuring, forehead resting against Marinette's shoulder, and she realised that at some point, she'd grabbed someone's hands and was squeezing them. She wrenched them away as her eyes shot open to reveal her hands encased in others that were much paler than Alya's. And then there was a tissue box in her lap and she grabbed a few, blowing her nose noisily.
"Sorry," she croaked out, head still ducked. The used tissues now squeezed within a fist, she raised an arm to swipe at her eyes as embarrassment seeped into her again.
"No need to be, Mari," Alya promised. "Do you need another hug?" Marinette shook her head, and the other woman nodded in understanding, getting up from the floor.
"Still hungry?" she asked gently. Marinette shrugged as someone else's stomach gurgled. Nino raised his hands defensively as they all chuckled lightly. Adrien, who had been crouching beside her the entire time, squeezed Marinette's hand one more before returning to his seat in silence.
Marinette fanned her face with an awkward giggle, heaving a big sigh and moving to dispose of the tissues. Dropping them into the bin under the sink, she contemplated retreating to her room but decided against it. They were bound to talk about her if she left, and she was in too delicate a state to be more anxious about their concerned gossip. It was best to leave when she was too exhausted to think, which would probably occur within a couple of hours.
With renewed determination, she returned to the dining table and served herself a small portion of lasagne.
The enthusiastic eating was interrupted by moans of praise for Alya's cooking, which Alya humbly received. And then Adrien broke the brief silence with, "So… wonderful weather today," and Marinette groaned, shoving a bite into her mouth before fixing the innocent-looking blond with an unimpressed stare.
"You've already used that one today," she said around the mouthful, hand raised to her lips.
"I know," he said simply as Nino snickered. She flipped them off, ignoring Nino's now indignant chokes and Alya's guffaw.
Ducking her head to avoid Adrien's amused stare, she focused on digging into her lasagne again as Alya inquired about people's days.
Roused from his sleep by the sputtering of a kettle, Adrien's eyes shot open.
Pushing himself up into a sitting position and smearing a hand over his face, tidbits of information returned to him. He was sleeping on a couch… in the lounge… at Alya's and Marinette's. A tap on his phone screen that lay an arm's reach away revealed that it was 3:48am. He yawned, turning his head to squint in the direction of the soft light source.
Marinette was pacing and muttering, pausing only to grab what looked like instant coffee and a mug, settle them on the benchtop, and then return to her agitated strides.
Her hair was barely in the braid from the previous night and Adrien's dazed conscience registered that her glistening cheeks indicated she might be crying. It was difficult to tell over the boiling kettle, but the thought alone sent an alarmed jolt through him, and he blinked rapidly as he straightened more.
The kitchen was facing the lounge, so if she turned around he knew she'd see his head and shoulders poking over the edge of the couch. He contemplated what to do before whispering, "Marinette?"
Of course, she didn't hear him over the crescendo of the kettle, but Adrien decided against trying again. Pondering more options, he concluded that anything he did would likely startle her, considering her agitated state and that she was likely unaware that he'd stayed the night.
Marinette had retreated to her room a couple of hours before Alya had offered him their couch to crash on, and it was unlikely that Alya had texted Marinette before dragging Nino toward her own room. She had thankfully warned him of Marinette's tendency to get up at irregular times, to which he'd reassured her that he was a heavy sleeper, which apparently wasn't true where clearly distressed young women were concerned.
He eyed her stiff shoulders as she stirred the liquid with trembling hands. It was times like this he was grateful for the slight alterations that being Chat Noir had made on his body. While he hated how intrusive he felt, he knew from her unpredictable disposition that his heightened senses would aid the split-second decisions he'd have to make.
He stood just as she was reaching for a macaron from a glass jar on a shelf.
Probably better to make an appearance sooner than later.
She spun around, and while he'd expected for her to be startled, he hadn't anticipated her dropping the dusty pink macaron and staring at him with a horrified expression.
"How did you find me?!"
The words were whispered, yet they wafted to Adrien's ears easily. He frowned, holding his arms up defensively and stepping over the pile of blankets so she could see all of him. Her breath hitched as her hands gripped the edge of the benchtop. She looked genuinely scared as she repeated the question a bit louder, almost pleading with him.
He forced himself to stay still, uncertain of how she'd react if he moved toward her. Instinctively, he knew something was very wrong. Was she sleepwalking and talking? Is this what Alya had meant by Marinette's irregular sleep schedule?
"What- Marinette, I was here last night, remember?"
Tears welled in her eyes and she started to sway, shaking her head erratically.
"Nononono- no! You can't be here! What if–"
Her voice faltered and she started hyperventilating, eyes darting towards the closed curtains.
"What if he sees you?" she hissed frantically.
What.
She began mumbling to herself, a crazed smile crossing her face. "Who are you kidding," she scoffed. "He doesn't love you anymore anyway!"
Laughing bitterly, she brought both hands up to cover her face as she collapsed on the floor, still muttering.
He stood dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond until her barked laughter transitioned almost seamlessly into sobs that wracked her entire body. Recalling how she'd broken down at dinner the previous evening and so casually carried on, he wondered if this was a regular occurrence.
He inched closer and she didn't acknowledge him at all. Her hands had shifted from her face to gripping her arms as she curled into herself, knees to her chin, but her blank eyes stared at something in front of her.
Now a meter away from Marinette, Adrien crouched down, trying to catch her gaze. She blinked and then her entire body wilted, breath coming out in short gasps. Tears filled her eyes again as she shook vehemently, but she looked more relieved than distressed, and Adrien managed a small smile while blinking back his own tears. It wouldn't be any help if he started bawling as well.
"Green," she whispered absently, reaching out to touch his cheek.
What the–
Then, unexpectedly, Marinette patted his cheek twice, lightly tapped his nose, and said, "It's okay, kitty, I'll fix this" before her body completely sagged and her head lolled forward.
– fuck?
Dumbfounded, Adrien couldn't contain the choked "My –"
Plagg zipped in front of his face, hissing something at him that he missed because Marinette was Ladybug?
A light sting from Plagg's minuscule slap brought Adrien's attention to the kwami who hovered between him and Marinette.
"Before you go jumping to conclusions," his nasal voice reprimanded, "get the poor girl off the floor?" He gestured to Marinette, slumped against the kitchen drawers, and Adrien winced, mind racing.
"Uh, right…" Deciding that he'd have to pick her up, he first disposed of the macaron before surveying the lounge to gauge where to put her. There were only two other armchairs and the couch he'd been sleeping on, so he decided he'd move to one of the armchairs because he was not about to try to carry her down the hall and into her bedroom.
"No time to get flustered, kid," Plagg commented drily, and Adrien cleared his throat, re-focusing on the task and compartmentalising the information that Ladybug had a room down the hall and had talked to him as though the past five years hadn't happened.
Moving back to the kitchen, he crouched down beside her and slid an arm in the crease between her bent knees while the other supported her neck for the inevitable head droop. Plagg hovered quietly as Adrien clutched her close and willed some of his warmth into her, carefully making his way around the dining table. When she snuggled into him and murmured, "Thanks, chaton," he squeezed her tighter but couldn't respond.
Finally laying Marinette on the longest couch, he tossed the blankets over her and scooped up a spare one, dropping his body into the armchair perpendicular to her head by a meter or so. Plagg floated over to him and settled on his shoulder.
"Is… is it really her, Plagg?" he asked weakly. He remembered that the kwami had sworn he couldn't reveal the identities of the miraculous holders, but if his recent suspicions were correct, Marinette hadn't been Ladybug for five years.
The little god gave an uncharacteristic sigh.
"Yes," he responded, and the dormant turmoil from five years prior returned with vengeance.
He had too many questions and when he eventually woke for the second time and Adrien noticed Marinette sitting cross-legged in a nest of blankets, they almost tumbled out of his mouth.
Natural light was streaming through the curtains and a glance at the analog clock on the opposite wall showed it was a little after 8am. He wondered how long Marinette had been awake for.
Eyeing his duffle bag, he hoped Plagg was hidden there instead of roaming the apartment for camembert. He made a mental note to buy another wheel on the way home before raising his joined hands above his head in a stretch.
Rearranging the blanket to cover his lower body, he scanned Marinette who was staring at a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. She was still wearing the light green flannel pajamas from the previous night and she'd re-braided her hair which was now dangling over a shoulder.
He pictured the signature pigtails that both Ladybug and Marinette had worn, along with the red mask and earrings, and had to focus on releasing a steady breath from his lips.
How had he missed it? How had she been right there the entire time? How had he been so fucking oblivious?
Before the questions could overtake his sense of logic, he breathed in deeply, held his breath, and exhaled slowly. It did nothing to slow the frantic beat of his pulse in his ears, but it was enough.
"Um, good morning, Marinette," he said carefully after clearing his throat.
She visibly jolted, but otherwise stubbornly stared at the mug that she held.
"What… um… did I say anything strange last night?"
Right. Straight to the point.
Adrien rubbed the crusted sleep from his eyes, contemplating how to respond.
"Um… you did startle me, but I didn't really hear anything," he lied, trying to sound lighthearted.
She looked up with an analytical yet vulnerable gaze. It was a startling combination, and Adrien realised with a twinge of sympathy that she was dissecting his words, not sure what to make of them.
"What do you remember?" he prompted and she blushed, ducking her head again and sipping from the Carapace-themed mug.
"Um, not much…" she hesitated and it was obvious that she was considering how much to divulge.
"I'm sorry… I- I have nightmares sometimes… I promise I'm not schizophrenic," she said finally.
I know, he wanted to say.
"Don't worry, Marinette," he said instead, desperate to make her more comfortable. "I understand."
He gestured to her mug. "Coffee?"
She blinked, presumably at the sudden subject change, but nodded hastily.
"Do you er… want some?" she asked timidly, already putting her own mug on the table and moving to stand up.
"Sure," he agreed easily as Alya ambled into the kitchen with a loud yawn.
Marinette bounded up from the couch, knocking her shin against the coffee table, and a stream of laughter bubbled from Adrien as she directed a glare at the table and then at him.
It was so Ladybug-like that Adrien desperately considered transforming and whisking her away to do who knows what but he just missed her so much and he wished—
The unmistakable bubbling of a moka pot snapped Adrien out of his impulsive thoughts, and he heard Marinette and Alya conversing lowly.
He stood behind a chair at the table as Marinette called over her shoulder to ask if he wanted milk, which he declined politely.
"Just one sugar, thanks," he said, eyes straying to the dusty pink macaron crumbs that littered the floor area around the kitchen bin.
Marinette smiled uneasily as she followed his gaze and placed the Rena Rouge-themed mug on the table with considerable force. Adrien pulled out the chair and reached for it as she spun around and swept the visual evidence of the previous night up with a dustpan.
She left the room without another word, and Adrien left the apartment half an hour later, simultaneously rejuvenated by the thought of seeing her again in the Friday lecture and dreading their next interaction.
A/N. Early one-sided reveal because I don't want to drag this out longer than necessary... How are we?