7A/N Thank you for the reviews and follows! I'm quite the perfectionist, so hearing from you and knowing that you're enjoying my writing means a lot. Also, sorry to y'all who were disappointed by the early reveal. It's not the main point of this fic - it's purely there to progress the story (as some reviewers have picked up on). I'm more focused on delving into the emotional aspects of these characters. Anywho, I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you like it, too! There's another A/N at the end xx
For the first time in a while, the unmistakable sight of Ladybug's colours stacked onto a cone brought a frown to Adrien's face.
Many gelato shops had flavour combinations that represented the miraculous heroes, and Adrien had tried them all. Anyone who knew he was Chat Noir would insist he was biased because he declared the cherry and blackberry combination to be his favourite. In reality, he was partial to a spearmint and rose combination, which had nothing to do with superheroes.
A jab to his side forced Adrien's gaze away from the window.
"Mate," Connor whispered in English, his Australian accent more obvious than ever. "Staring at kids eating gelato is not a good look."
Adrien flushed and looked away immediately as the group of children walked by, waving their gelato around animatedly.
"Sorry." He laughed awkwardly, reaching for his iced latte. Connor shot him another questioning glance before directing his attention back to his laptop where their shared presentation on intercultural communications was displayed.
"I see that exact colour combination everywhere," Connor mused in French, eyes flickering over their powerpoint. Adrien stared at his own laptop, eyes glossing over the words of the assigned course reading. "What's up with that?"
"Oh, it represents this hero called Ladybug," Adrien explained distractedly. "She used to live in Paris."
Used to, my ass, his brain scoffed.
But Connor didn't need to be privy to that information. As far as the public was concerned, Ladybug hadn't made an appearance in years, and there was no reason for that change. Besides, it had only been a couple of days since he'd found out, and he suspected that exposure would be more detrimental to Marinette than not.
"Hero?" Connor asked, interested. He adjusted the round glasses he'd once insisted were 'aesthetic boyfriend material'. "Is that why there are all those statues and posters? I see them everywhere."
"Probably," Adrien shrugged, sipping his half-finished drink. The coolness sent a jolt through his drowsy senses, and he absently noted that sitting in the sun was probably not his brightest decision of the day.
"Huh, I'd thought they were just popular characters or something," Connor said. "Ya know, like Minnie Mouse?"
"Nope," Adrien laughed. "We have- well, had- a team of superheroes for a good couple of years," he told him, imagining with amusement how Connor might react if he said that he'd been one of the original heroes.
If he was anything like Nino at first, he'd probably think he was just pulling his leg. And, understandably so. Many people had claimed to be Chat Noir over the years.
"We don't have heroes back home," Connor said with a frown. "Why Paris? And where are they now?"
"There was some dude called Hawkmoth who was terrorizing the city a few years back," Adrien replied, squinting at his screen. Finally finding a useful quote from a paragraph, he copied it into an open document with a small annotation to rephrase it in his own words.
Connor's bushy brows were raised over the top rim of the glasses' frames when Adrien glanced back at him.
"What kind of villain calls themself Hawkmoth?" he asked in disbelief.
"Someone who dresses like a moth and has the senses of hawk?" Adrien quipped. He wasn't sure if the villain's possession of the butterfly miraculous was common knowledge, and he wasn't about to change that. "He hasn't been seen in years though," he added. "Hence why the heroes haven't been needed."
"I did wonder about that…" Connor said. "Didn't he disappear at the same time as Ladybug or something?"
"Yeah…" Adrien replied, recalling the Ladyblog post that cemented the public's awareness. Naturally, it was the Ladyblog that delivered the confirmation that everyone needed. Ladybug had retired, and the amount of theories that had circulated was appalling. The most popular ones ranged from Hawkmoth killing her to her being pregnant with Chat Noir's baby.
Not new to oppressive scrutiny and intent on conducting his own investigation, he'd been able to ignore the speculations for about a month. By the end of it, the public's tendency to inject facts with blatant falsehoods just for the hell of it had infuriated him to no end. His resentment toward Alya for fostering those rumours amidst his estranged relationship with Marinette had further isolated him. Soon, his social circle had dwindled to just Nino, Plagg, his therapist, and his suddenly repentant father.
And though it made sense on some logical level, it was strange. When Ladybug hadn't been sighted in a month, there also hadn't been any akumatisations, which was both a relief and highly suspicious.
According to all the akumas Hawkmoth had made, he'd needed both the miraculouses to make his wish, so Adrien didn't understand why the villain had suddenly given up after a year of terror. Adrien reasoned that despite the oddity of the circumstance, it was just as well that Hawkmoth hadn't sent out any akumas because, at that point, he'd had both jewels in his possession and was in an extremely fragile state. That would have been a disaster.
Even stranger than Hawkmoth's impromptu disappearance was Ladybug's disposition. Of course, he'd noticed her distancing herself, but he'd forced himself to leave her be and respect her ever-expanding boundaries.
The new information that Marinette was Ladybug did nothing to shed light on the heroine's actions. If anything, the fact that Marinette had desperately avoided both Chat Noir and Adrien was more troubling.
Yesterday, he'd briefly considered that Marinette had somehow figured out he was Chat Noir. After much deliberation with Plagg, that thought was duly discarded.
For one thing, Marinette hated liars. That much was painfully obvious in all her interactions with Lila Rossi back in middle school. Granted, she'd been able to keep her superhero identity from everyone for this long, which required a degree of deception, but Marinette would have hated to be the very thing she despised.
The heart of both Marinette and Ladybug longed for justice, which left no room for wanton lies.
Admittedly, the unwavering faith that he'd had in Ladybug had shattered the moment his brain had pieced together that he was holding her miraculous. And yet, a sliver of peace was found in his conviction that she had to have a good reason for leaving as she did.
Cruelty was not in Marinette's or Ladybug's vocabulary. Yes, there was a time when his heartbroken logic had whispered that both of them relished in his torment. And, despite the insecurities feeding that thought, recalling both Marinette's and Ladybug's turmoil eradicated that idea. She had clearly been suffering before her isolation. And it seemed like she still was after all these years.
Rena Rogue had refused to say anything more on the matter, presumably out of loyalty to Ladybug. The suspicion that the holder of the fox Miraculous had known Ladybug's civilian identity had crushed him at first. Now that he knew Marinette was Ladybug, he had an inkling that Rena Rouge was none other than Alya, her devoted friend since middle school. But that information now only deepened the mystery and thus his desperation for closure.
Several questions circulated in his mind.
Ladybug had been the guardian, so where was the miracle box? Did Marinette still have it? Was she still the guardian? Had she actually taken on Hawkmoth by herself like he'd feared? The notorious villain hadn't been brought to justice and there had been no sign yet of the butterfly brooch. Did Ladybug have his miraculous? Was that why she'd claimed that Chat Noir wouldn't need her?
That made even less sense, though. Ladybug was anything if not thorough, always committed to ensuring that all villains were accounted for. Besides, her self-isolation as both Ladybug and Marinette wasn't one of excitement at taking down a super-villain. She'd been subdued, more intent on removing herself from the scene than anything.
Accordingly, Adrien had only reached two different explanations for Ladybug's departure;
1). Ladybug knew who Hawkmoth was, confronted him by herself, failed, and somehow compromised her identity in the process or 2). Something had spooked her enough to assume that she couldn't continue being Ladybug, which had been a recurring insecurity.
If the latter was the case, it had to have been something bigger than Hawkmoth.
Unfortunately, neither of the conclusions explained Rena's cryptic speech about him not needing Ladybug, Marinette's avoidance of him as Adrien, or her mumbled words from a couple of nights ago.
Ugh. He was just going in circles.
Connor shot him a sympathetic smile as Adrien rubbed his temples.
"It's only Thursday, so we still have another week until this is due," Connor said mildly. "I don't mind if we pick this up again after our next class?"
Adrien winced. Connor's work ethic was only outshined by his love for surfing, which was apparently huge. They both hated procrastinating on projects that had a deadline, and Adrien knew he was fortunate to have a like-minded partner for this assignment.
"Okay," Adrien accepted. "I'd appreciate that."
He glanced at the time displayed in the corner of his screen. "I've got to be somewhere at 3pm anyway."
"'Aight," Connor said, stretching as Adrien accounted for all his belongings. "See you on Monday."
Echoing his words, Adrien left the still-bustling cafe and headed toward the second most important building in his life; his therapist's home office.
Opting to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, he took off his jacket carefully and slung it over his forearm. A flash of bright green confirmed that Plagg had readjusted himself to curl into a small ball. If anyone looked in the main pocket of his jacket, it would just look like a tiny mass of black.
He often wondered if the intransitive state of kwamis could be explained through physics and the thought of studying Plagg twisted Adrien's lips into an amused smile. He couldn't imagine the kwami ever staying still enough to comply with any experimental procedures. Knowing him, Plagg would likely flaunt his god status and trick an unsuspecting soul into giving him a lifetime of cheese, the glutton.
For all his mischievous tendencies and exaggerated laziness though, Plagg had been a steadying constant over the years. An unlikely companion, it was a wonder that Plagg hadn't given up on Adrien. He was also grateful that he hadn't had to give Plagg up since Hawkmoth's silence. Without the guidance of the guardian, only Chat Noir and Rena Rogue had both retained their miraculous, something he'd been immensely relieved about in the months following Ladybug's departure. The thought of another hero out there still brought Adrien a sense of comfort.
He also couldn't imagine where he'd be without Plagg, who had once confessed that until Adrien's suicide attempt, he'd thought of therapy as unnecessary. Adrien had joked that maybe Plagg ought to get therapy as well, to which the kwami had responded with a short huff.
Carol, Adrien's therapist of two years, still had a slight twinge in her accent from her decade-long bout in America. When they'd first met, Carol had lived in Paris for five years and offered to conduct her sessions in either French or English. Though it wasn't a huge priority for Adrien, he made an effort to converse in English to strengthen it - something that his father had impressed upon him for a long time.
By the time Adrien completed the distance to Carol's house, he had ten minutes to spare. After a few moments of sitting on a bench on the opposite side of the road, relishing in the sun, the front door opened and Carol called out to him in French.
"Come on in if you want, Adrien!"
Grinning, Adrien confirmed that it was fine and stepped into the house when she insisted, claiming they may as well start early. Ushering him down the hall, Carol apologized for the cat fur on the couch and offered to go to another room.
Adrien smiled faintly. "I'm not allergic, so I don't mind," he assured her.
"Excellent!" she clapped her hands and led them into the room, pointing out the tea, coffee, and water station with the usual 'Help yourself!' Pouring himself a glass of water and settling onto one of the armchairs, he contemplated how to answer Carol's usual inquiry about how he was.
"Well," he started slowly, gathering his thoughts. "I… ran into Blue again."
Carol's brows rose with interest, and she made that familiar noise of curiosity.
When he didn't fill the silence, she said, "Blue? We haven't talked about her in a while," which was true.
Adrien nodded pensively, wondering how to phrase things.
"I... have reason to believe that she's also… Red," he said quietly. The side of his mouth quirked upward when Carol's mouth dropped open.
"Believe me, I had the same reaction," he said humorously. Staring at the glass of water that sat on the coffee table, he pondered how to resume his thought process.
"Before we continue," Carol interjected hesitantly. "Can I ask how you reached that conclusion?"
Adrien sat back. So far, he'd avoided having to divulge any information about his superhero persona. Thanks to one of Plagg's offhand suggestions, he'd been able to phrase his concerns as an online dating incident. If Carol suspected that he wasn't being completely forthright, she hadn't directly commented on it. Besides, the fake context had worked since their first session two years ago.
"A… mutual friend," he decided to say. It was vague enough, and Carol appeared to accept his answer with a hum. When she didn't press for more information, he said, "I… I just don't really know what to do with this information."
Carol nodded sympathetically before asking; "Why do you need to do anything with the information?"
Adrien paused. They hadn't talked about 'Blue' and 'Red' in a while because he'd gained a sense of peace about his circumstance; a peace that had been violently disturbed. He was driving himself insane with the constant circulation of questions, doubts, and fears.
"I.. well… Blue and Red were both super important to me and… now knowing they're – she's…" Noticing his struggle, Carol supplied, "Purple?"
"Yes!" He exclaimed, immediately seizing the new title. "...Purple… I- it makes it even more… confusing? Difficult? Hurtful? I don't know."
He sighed dejectedly and Carol, who had been nodding along and humming appropriately, took a moment to parrot back his words. As usual, this prompted Adrien to continue his train of thought.
"Yeah, I just… I feel like it just means that I definitely fucked things up between us." As Carol nodded her head with a worried expression, he swept a hand over his face, finally allowing the compartmentalised hurt to spill out.
"She… hardly even looked at me and she goes to my university now… and it's awkward because our friends are dating, so we'll most likely be seeing more of each other and- and she broke down the other day, and she… she said my other name… And it sounded like she'd just had a nightmare about me?"
A slightly hysterical laugh escaped him at the absurdity of it all before Adrien lapsed into silence, wondering with a twinge of amusement if Carol was even keeping up.
"Okay…" she said slowly. "So, Purple - if you're happy to keep referring to her as that –" Adrien nodded.
Thinking of Ladybug and Marinette as two separate people had been very confusing the past couple of days, so conceptualising her as this new 'Purple' somehow made it easier to accept that Marinette was much more complex than he'd originally thought.
"So, Purple doesn't know that you're Black because you two never met up in person," Carol summarised carefully.
"Yes," Adrien confirmed, grateful that the colour names weren't overly confusing and that the online-meeting story still worked in place of the superhero context.
"And, now that you know that she's both Blue and Red," she continued, tilting her head in memory, "you… think that her… avoiding you… on both fronts… is 'definitely' because of something you did?"
"Yeah," Adriend said, slouching more into the comfort of the couch. "At least, I somehow offended her as both Black and myself – separately, of course."
Carol regarded him inquisitively. "Two questions. What makes you think that you did something wrong and how do you know that she doesn't also know that you're Black?"
"I… I had considered that," he said honestly. "But, it's just -I'm positive that she would've told me if she knew… And, as for the first question -I don't know. I just… she always shrinks away from me -and she sounded so scared, and… here's just no other reason for her to be scared of me if I didn't do something!"
His mind whirled with possibilities, desperately trying to recall if he'd done something to hurt her. Of course, the first thing that came to mind was the bubblegum incident on his first day of school, but that was years ago and they'd overcome it that very afternoon.
"Adrien," Carol's voice said firmly, and he looked up. "Unless you're leaving out some critical information, it doesn't sound like you've done anything to explicitly hurt Purple. In the online world, though, anything can hurt someone implicity, simply because you're not chatting face-to-face and there's that lack of… physical connection."
Adrien nodded slowly. He almost blurted out that there was critical information missing; that he was Chat Noir and Marinette was Ladybug, but he dutifully held his tongue.
"Not that online relationships can't be meaningful," Carol added hastily. "But, there's always that chance for misunderstandings and miscommunication and all sorts. Now, that can also obviously happen between face-to-face relationships, but I think not to the same degree."
Adrien grunted thoughtfully, considering her words.
"And based on what you've told me," she continued, "Purple is the one who kept shutting down your idea to meet up, even after three years of you two chatting." She paused, ever attentive to ensure Adrien could speak. "It sounds like you really value authenticity in all your relationships, which is a great quality. However, some people – like Purple, maybe – may not have the capacity for authenticity in all of their relationships. Does that make sense?"
"I think so," he responded uncertainly, though he had always considered Marinette authentic. With Ladybug, there was the mandatory elusiveness that ensured they both remained anonymous, but Purple had always worn her heart on her sleeve.
"I just- it always made sense why she wouldn't want to meet up... and I guess, I just thought I was pushing her too much."
"That's possible," Carol agreed thoughtfully. "Although, if it's true that she doesn't know that you're Black, there doesn't appear to be any reason for her to intentionally avoid you both." Her eyes had narrowed as she mentally puzzled over his predicament.
"What do you think about asking her?" she said thoughtfully after a moment of silence.
"Asking her what?" Like he needed clarification for that.
Carol smiled somewhat wryly. "About this whole Black, Red, and Blue business."
"I-I wouldn't know how," Adrien said defeatedly.
"That's understandable," she said, maintaining her empathetic stance. "But it also sounds like you won't get closure unless you actually talk to her," she finished gently.
"I know," he sighed.
After discussing the merits of inconspicuously dropping hints or directly confronting 'Purple', they brainstormed the angles from which Adrien could broach the subject. Finally settling on the idea of asking 'Orange' for some hopefully helpful information, Carol concluded the session with a piece of encouragement and guided him to the front door.
Donning his jacket, he confirmed that he'd be back the following month and sent through the payment as he left the property. After responding to a text from Nino about hanging out in an hour, he waited for his driver to arrive. Plagg was already looking up at him as he glanced into his pocket.
"Camembert for your thoughts?" Adrien inquired, not immune to the soft glare that Plagg sent his way. They both knew that Plagg had eaten through his daily portion a couple of hours ago.
"You'd need at least four wheels for my thoughts, kid," the kwami scoffed good-naturedly.
"How about one when we get home and one for every time you say something helpful," Adrien quipped back.
Plagg stuck out his tongue in response and unfurled within the pocket.
"Like that lady? She wasn't that impressive today," he said offhandedly, and Adrien sent him an annoyed look before smiling politely at someone on the opposite side of the street.
"Well, it's a good thing I'm the one actually getting therapy since you don't pay for it," he replied, somewhat indignant. Plagg only huffed in response.
"Tikki wasn't doing well this morning," he said almost nonchalantly, though Adrien recognised the genuine concern in his tone.
Ladybug's distressed kwami had been another niggling problem that Adrien had yet to find a solution for. After her begging Adrien not to give the earrings to a new holder in case Marinette came to her senses, he'd stowed the miraculous accordingly. The kwami of creation had been dormant ever since, and no amount of pleading from Plagg had encouraged her out of the earrings.
"I'm sorry," was all Adrien could think of saying.
They'd agreed to not talk about the Marinette-Ladybug situation around the earrings, in case Tikki overheard and became more depressed. Plagg insisted that even though she was dormant, she could still experience the world, hence their caution of conversation topics.
The sudden realisation that Tikki could also be grieving the rejection from Marinette sent a ripple of guilt through Adrien. When he got home, he'd have another go at putting on the earrings and try to console her.
"I'm proud of you, Adrien," Plagg said quietly after a few minutes. Adrien patted the pocket affectionately, smiling slightly.
"Would it be alright to head out tonight?" He asked Plagg. Not unfamiliar with Adrien's regular inclinations to take a midnight run, Plagg huffed an agreement, striking an elaborate bargain for more cheese.
Adrien barely heard whatever figure Plagg had dropped, instantly agreeing.
He had to prepare to interrogate a certain fox.
Marinette parked the cleaning cart in the doorway and switched on the light, surveying the final bathroom on her scheduled shift.
Boy was it filthy compared to the other suites she'd cleaned within the past few hours.
Tracing her eyes along the streaks of grime and pinkish mold, she grinned. The previous hotel rooms had been fairly easy to clean, with minimal mess. At least this one would see obvious results.
The guests had occupied this suite for well over a week and according to her manager, they were paranoid of their stuff being stolen so they had refused to allow the regular cleaners to enter. Despite multiple assurances that their belongings were safe, they were adamant, even triple-checking the suite as they checked out that morning.
While frustrating to say the least, Marinette silently thanked them for providing a small avenue of satisfaction in her otherwise boring casual job.
Grabbing the appropriate cleaning products and equipment, she set them down in the corner and attacked the shower first.
Humming along to an acoustic rendition of a Jagged Stone song, her mind wandered to the commission that an anonymous person had enquired about just an hour ago.
It was a relatively simple commission; six sets of baby clothes themed around Paris' superheroes. She hadn't made baby clothes before but figured it was doable because she wouldn't have to be too particular about fitting the measurements to an actual person.
She'd read the message from her notifications bar during her short break which had almost earned her a scolding from her manager. Though eager to respond, she'd intentionally not tapped on it, lest the potential client thought she left them on 'seen'. Instead, Marinette resolved to get through the last couple hours of her shift and respond when she got home.
Alya's cheerful text in reaction to Marinette's news had suggested a celebratory dinner, to which she immediately agreed. She hadn't read Alya's latest message yet, but Marinette was sure that her friend would whip something special up. It would, after all, be her sixth commission since her business launched a couple of years ago.
According to the initial message, it was a gift for a friend and was needed within five months, which was perfect. Summer was a couple of months away, she'd have a project to keep her busy, and she'd be able to live a bit more comfortably after depositing half toward her tuition fees.
Only getting a few night shifts a week had been incredibly stressful and frustrating as her paycheck barely covered her portion of rent. While studying part-time had its merits as she could dedicate a decent amount of energy toward her business, it meant that her allocation for the student housing allowance was halved. Thus, Marinette relied on her irregular commissions and hours to get by.
Sometimes she found money in her account from her parents, which she accepted with a mix of gratitude and weak insistence that she didn't really need the financial assistance. Whether they thought she was lying or not, they always responded lovingly, with reasons pertaining to their care for her. On more than one occasion, she'd considered creating a new bank account just to eliminate the guilt of their charity, but she'd talked herself out of it. While nosy in a good-natured sense, Marinette knew that she was lucky to have such patient and loving parents.
Now cleaning the mirror, she pondered what heroes the baby clothes could be. She could already picture fox and cat ears protruding from their respective coloured beanies. Maybe they'd like a onesie for one of the pieces? Most clients appreciated Marinette's creativity, so she was certain that she could slip that option into one of the final sketches.
Given that four of the five previous commissions had been featured around the Miraculous holders, Marinette reasoned that she could probably recycle some of those designs for this project. While it wasn't necessarily "creative", she'd long since learned to appreciate and use the resources before her.
Besides, the business-oriented corner of her brain chimed. It's probably best to build your brand image with distinguishable features.
Grumbling, Marinette wryly mused that it was stupidly ironic how she just couldn't escape the Miraculous world.
Though Alya had promised to never bring the subject up, between the incessant nightmares, random monuments in public places, and her expanding business, Marinette hadn't been able to properly move on. Aside from moving countries, which she'd seriously considered at one point, she'd concluded that she had to settle with her circumstances.
Her whole life was in Paris, and she'd be damned if she let her unresolved superhero business drive her from the city and the people she loved.
Despite the concerns of Alya and her family, she wasn't falling apart. She wanted to roll her eyes at the very notion. Well, to be fair to them, maybe she was a couple of years ago, but that was a different time with a different Marinette.
Current Marinette was living week-to-week instead of day-to-day. Sure, the night terrors and complimentary spiraling always interrupted a period of equilibrium, but current Marinette was more or less content with how her life was.
The bathroom finally pristine, Marinette removed the bedsheets from the already-made bed. Her nose crinkled in disgust at the smell of unwashed sheets, and she discarded them into the washing bin on the cart. After deftly making the bed with a fresh set, she ensured that the room was otherwise spotless. Another cleaner would vacuum and dust the suite after her, so Marinette didn't feel guilty about the visible trails of fingerprints on one of the bedside tables.
As she was leaving, another cleaner was exiting the room a couple doors down the same hall. The vacuum cleaner strapped to their back, the teenager grinned at Marinette.
"Perfect timing," she said. "I'm Lucy, by the way!"
Marinette pulled the supply cart to a stop. "Nice to meet you, Lucy," she said, trying to match her enthusiasm. "Sorry, I just locked the door."
Lucy waved it off. "It's all good," she assured Marinette. "You got any more rooms to do?"
"Nope, that was the last one for me." And thank goodness for that. A glance at the clock upon her exit showed that it was a little after 6pm, which meant she'd worked a little overtime.
Lucy was already moving away. "Nice!" she called over her shoulder. "And, nice to meet you, too!"
Marinette's lips twitched upward in response. How someone could have that much energy at this time, she wouldn't know. By the time Marinette clocked out and left the hotel, a headache was forming. Walking home, she finally read Alya's recent text and groaned.
For fucks sake. Why did her celebratory evening have to involve other people?
Alya's apology text, sandwiched between a bunch of others, claimed that Adrien and Nino had simply been hanging out when she'd called to cancel their date night. Marinette found a sliver of forgiveness within herself before responding.
[Mari: Be home in 15. What time are the guys gonna be there?]
[Alys: Nino's already here. Just waiting on Sunshine Boy]
The fleeting wish that said Sunshine Boy wouldn't show up was quashed as she received another text.
[Als: Nvm Nino said that he's just picking up some snacks (: ]
Marinette had been hoping to avoid the ex-model until their next lecture which was tomorrow.
She glared up at the sky. Yep, the universe definitely hated her. Since Tikki was the kwami of Creation, Marinette realised with a pang that the line of logic meant her once closest friend hated her. The sadness of that thought lingered as Marinette entered the apartment complex and pushed the button to reach the third floor.
So caught up in her low spirits, she didn't hear someone calling her name until they stepped into the elevator with her. She blinked as the doors closed behind a huffing Adrien.
"Why do I feel like you're always breathless when you're around me," Marinette snarked, realising only a second after how flirty it sounded. Thank goodness it would be a short ride.
"Maybe because I'm always trying to catch up to you," Adrien shot back amiably. He transferred the full bag of snacks to his other hand. "Did you just get back from work?"
"Yep," Marinette said shortly as Adrien gestured to the now-open elevator doors.
"After you," he said politely, and Marinette dipped into a mock bow before stalking out.
"Why, thank you kindly," she muttered sarcastically.
Marching toward her front door, she felt the phantom press of Tikki's tiny body against her hip and the sadness returned as she flung the door open, not bothering to welcome Adrien in or look for Alya.
Thankfully, dinner - which had been some of maman's cooking, picked up by Alya - went without another embarrassing breakdown and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. Mentally and physically exhausted, Marinette tried to fulfill her role as the excited designer, but her mind kept drifting to Tikki.
Eventually, Marinette excused herself from the socialising with a tired reminder to a surprised Adrien that they had a class the following day. Taking the jar of macarons to her room, she made a mental note to make some more on the weekend and ensured that her bag was packed for tomorrow. She'd long since learned that being prepared the night before earned her some precious sleep-in time.
Finally resting against the headboard of her bed, she opened the commission message and sent the customary response that outlined her process. Tossing her phone onto another area of the bed, she reached into the middle drawer of her bedside cabinet and withdrew the Tikki plushie that she'd made during a previous moment of regret.
Clutching the toy to her chest, she plucked a macaron from the jar and nibbled on it, allowing the sorrow to morph into recurring worries.
Was she still with Chat Noir? Had she found another holder? Had she forgiven her?
Sweet, sweet Tikki had comforted her after every nightmare and offered her otherworldly wisdom and kind words. Tikki had watched sadly as Marinette stubbornly isolated herself from Chat Noir and sabotaged her friendship with Adrien. She had pleaded with her even as Marinette prepared to say the words that renounced their connection.
Yes, the universe might hate her, but Marinette knew that she only had herself to blame.
A/N I've re-read the previous chapters and it turns out that no matter how many times I proofread and activate Grammarly, there are still errors. So, thank you for overlooking them for now! I'm focusing on getting the chapters out for reviews/feedback but once more are posted, I'll do an extensive edit on the current ones. Also, uni has started up again for me, hence why it's taking me longer to update. I'm really enjoying having the space to exercise my creativity though, so thank you for your patience and support in advance x
Also, I've changed the tags because I'm not entirely sure if I'll tap into romance and I don't want to lead y'all on (;