Hello my lovely followers and new readers simply interested in this story! So, what is one of the better shows on modern television (in this writer's opinion anyways)? Miraculous Ladybug of course! I am absolutely in love with the premise (obviously since I love magical girl anime) and Marinette and Adrien as Chat Noir are the biggest, most adorable dorks on the face of the planet! I adore watching them and I can't wait to see the internet break when Nick airs the dubbed Valentine's day episode!
Anywho, this is my FIRST attempt at writing with the characters. Please let me know in the reviews if anyone seems out of character and just as fair warning: most of the characterizations I'm using are from the English version. I don't think there are many differences from the French/Korean versions but I'm putting that out there just to be on the safe side.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot and Lyra, all other properties belong to their respectful owners
Enjoy!
It started out as any other normal day. A normal day in the life of less than normal Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And like any other normal day, she and her best friend Alya were running late.
"Come on Marinette!" Alya shouted as they ran down the sidewalks of the Parisian streets, on-comers quickly dodging the two teenagers, "We're gonna be late, again! I can't get a detention, what if another Akuma attack happens? I have to be there to report it for the Ladyblog!"
"I know I know!" Marinette called as she lagged slightly behind, only able to keep up thanks to Alya's severe grip on her wrist, "I'm going as fast as I can!" a white lie actually, but if Alya knew just how fast she could run her secret would be out in a second. Alya was far too observant for her own good sometimes.
They ran a few more blocks before Alya's manacle of a hand twisted along Marinette's wrist. What Marinette hadn't noticed, too preoccupied with keeping the speed of her friend, was the person directly in her path. Alya couldn't pull her to the side in time, and Marinette collided with the stranger in front of her. The impact forced both of them away as they tumbled to the ground. Marinette was the first to recover.
"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, "Is there anything I can do to-" her voice petered out as she saw a familiar mop of blonde hair, and an even more familiar white jacket and pair of blue jeans. Of all the people she could have run over, it just had to be her classmate and secret crush: Adrien Agreste, half-hunched over and searching for something. A high-pitched squeak escaped her as she clapped her hands over her mouth; Marinette was absolutely mortified. Her already far too active imagination kicked into overdrive and she was sure that Adrien was going to hate her forever now.
Before anything worse could happen, her companion on the ground spoke,
"No, no; you don't have to apologize," that was funny, Adrien sounded off today. His voice was husky and yet, slightly more feminine than usual, "It was partly my fault too, I wasn't looking where I was going," Adrien looked up from his search on the ground in her direction.
Was it just Marinette, or did his face look more rounded? It was almost heart-shaped thanks to the chubby cheeks that somehow appeared out of nowhere overnight. But his eyes were still the same dreamy green as always. That much was a relief.
Just then Adrien squinted at her, almost as though trying to place her in his memory. That was odd, he knew her name since she'd talked –well, managed to make words come out of her mouth in some kind of coherent fashion- with him before. When Marinette opened her mouth to remind him of who she was he reached out and planted a hand smack in the middle of her face. Marinette blinked nonplussedly a few times before recoiling back. She glanced at Alya, still on her feet, who shrugged in confusion before looking back at the boy on the ground.
Adrien's hand recoiled close to him and he looked both slightly horrified and really embarrassed, "Uh…" he drew out the filler, "Was that your face?" he asked timidly.
"Um, yeah!" Marinette said far too cheerfully, attempting to laugh the situation off.
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" Adrien exclaimed, "I honestly didn't mean to, but I can't see a foot in front of me without my glasses. Have you seen them?" Adrien moved his upper body to fully face Marinette on the ground and Marinette held back a startled gasp.
It wasn't actually Adrien she had run into, but dammed if they didn't look almost exactly like him. The only thing that differentiated the two besides the voice and the baby cheeks? Two soft yet obvious swells protruding from the girl's chest. It couldn't have been more obvious now if Alya had smacked Marinette over the back of the head with the word 'clue'. This wasn't Adrien, but she –whoever she was- looked almost identical to him. From a distance at the right angle: no one would be able to tell them apart.
"Hang on a second," Alya said from off to the side, "Are these your glasses?" she handed over a pair of spectacles more suited for an owl's face than a person's, that had skidded towards her feet during the commotion. Carefully the girl placed them on the bridge of her nose and blinked in a rather catlike manner. Then her vision appeared to adjust to the calibration of the lenses and she was able to see clearly. She smiled her thanks at Alya and turned to Marinette, reaching out her hand. Marinette grabbed hold and together the two pushed themselves to their feet.
"Thank you so much," the girl said as she brushed a stray lock of hair aside, smoothing her entire hairstyle out in the process. Marinette noticed that she was tall, taller than any girl she had ever met before, "Now, allow me to help with your bags."
"No, no!" Marinette was quick to say, "It's fine if you don't,"
"But I already have," the girl gave a smile as she held up Marinette's backpack by the hook strap.
Now that Marinette knew that this girl was a girl she noticed a few other things that made her feel a little foolish for confusing the two. For example, her hair was slightly messier than Adrien usually had his, and she had a dimple in her left cheek. She was tall and lithe, but full-figured: a combination Marinette had only ever seen on magazine covers. And, when this girl smiled it was more easygoing and impish than Marinette had ever seen her from classmate. In fact, it reminded her of someone else she saw on a near daily basis.
The clothes were also different, her designer's eye noted. They almost looked a bit too small for her figure, as though she was borrowing someone else's. The olive t-shirt she wore under the half-sleeved white hoodie was a little tight against her frame: the material stretching over her curves and not quite making down to her waist, leaving a bit of her midriff exposed when coupled with the low-slung jeans she wore. A light blue color instead of the denim blue Adrien preferred.
Belatedly she realized she had been blatantly scrutinizing the girl for over a minute now, leaving her schoolbag to dangle in the air. With a crimson face Marinette hurriedly grabbed the bag and looked anywhere else but the girl's eyes.
Alya thankfully stepped in to salvage the situation, "Sorry about that," she said smoothly, "My friend here is an aspiring fashion designer and can't help herself from analyzing people's outfits."
The girl laughed and waved it off, "It's no big deal," she replied, "I'm used to people staring, trust me."
"Great," Alya said, "I'm sorry my friend ran into you earlier."
The girl continued to smile, almost grinning as she answered, "There's nothing to forgive," she assured them, "After all, it wasn't entirely her fault." Alya, and this is my best friend Marinette.
"What were you doing that you didn't notice my friend and I barreling down the sidewalk?" Alya pressed, journalist instincts probing for a story.
"I just caught up in memories," the girl replied, "It's been quite some time, and I'm just so glad to be back in Paris again," here she took on a sheepish expression and scratched at the back of her head, "I guess I got a little distracted."
Alya nodded, taking it as a perfectly acceptable explanation, "You're not the first person Paris has had that effect on, I'm sure you wont be the last. I'm Alya by the way, and this," she pulled Marinette to her side, "is my best friend Marinette."
The girl gave a more courteous smile than the one's they'd seen previously and slightly tilted her head to the side, "A pleasure to meet you both. I'm Lyrabelle, Lyrabelle Composeur. Please, call me Lyra."
"Compseur huh?" Alya raised a brow, "That name sounds familiar,"
Lyra nodded, "I'm sure it does, my –Aiyah!" she said as she pulled out her cellphone, silencing an alarm she had set, "Oh no," Lyra groaned, "I better get going or else I'm going to be late, and if I'm late my father's gonna kill me!" she slipped the mobile into her back pocket, "It was really great to meet you, but I have to go. I hope I'll see you guys around sometime?"
"Here's hoping," Alya said as she waved goodbye, Marinette nodded and waved in agreement.
Lyra gave that all-too-familiar grin as she turned on her heel and started sprinting away.
"She was nice," Marinette said.
"She was, and yet you had the same problem talking to her as you do with Adrien!" Alya chastised her.
"Can you blame me?" Marinette asked, "She looks exactly like a female version of him!"
"Yeah," Alya agreed, "But she certainly doesn't act like him."
"What do you mean?"
"She seems a little more," the redhead searched for an appropriate word, "open?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Adrien's nice and all, but there seems to be a bit of a distance he puts between himself and others. Almost like he's hiding something…" Alya trailed off in thought before remembering something, "Shoot! We gotta get going too or we're going to be late for class!"
Marinette's eyes widened with realization while Alya grabbed her hand and started the cycle all over again.
They had made it, just barely. Alya and Marinette had come sliding into their seats not even two minutes before the teacher came striding through the door. Miss Bustier halted at the doorframe and spoke to someone out of view for a moment before continuing on to stand in front of the desk as usual.
"Good morning class," she greeted cheerfully, "I have some exciting news. Starting today we will have a new student joining us," she motioned toward the door and gestured for the person outside to come in.
And who should come swaggering in, hips swinging and manner confident, but the girl Alya and Marinette (mostly Marinette) had literally run into this morning: Lyra.
"Good morning everyone," she greeted politely, "My name is Lyrabelle Composeur and I'm very pleased to meet you. I only have request, that you all call me Lyra, Lyrabelle is too much."
Before anyone else could speak Chloe gave a shrill gasp, "Composeur? You mean the same Composeur of Composeur Costumier? The most famous costumier company in the world?"
Lyra turned her attention to Chloe and nodded, "Yes, Maron Composeur is my father."
Chloe nearly swooned where she stood. Lyra gave a nervous smile and scanned the rest of the classroom.
"Are there any other questions anyone has for me?" silence answered her, yet Lyra continued to make eye contact with each of her fellow classmates. However when her gaze rested on Adrien Marinette noticed the immediate change in expression.
Her eyes went wide for a moment and her mouth dropped open. Then before anyone could say or do anything Lyra had lunged forward and swept Adrien up in an embrace.
"Adrien!" she cried happily as she proceeded to squeeze the life out of him, "I'm so happy to see you!" she loosened her grip enough to look up at him since she had lifted him high above her head in her enthusiasm, "I knew we were going to be at the same school but to be in the same class together? This is wonderful!"
Adrien gave a small chuckle, "Lyra, we're already going to be seeing each other every day while at home."
Lyra scoffed, "If I know your father, and I can assume I do because he's the same as mine, he'll have you booked with all sorts of activities. And in that mausoleum of a house I'll be lucky if I catch one glimpse of you!"
"We'll be taking the same car to school in the mornings, which we would've done today if somebody hadn't overslept," his tone was teasing and mocking, two traits Adrien's classmates didn't normally associate with him.
"You know it takes more than a week for jetlag to stop kicking my butt," Lyra pointed out, "it's hard for me to be ready for eight when it still feels like two to me."
"Well the way I see it you've only got four more days," Adrien quipped, "Just in time for the weekend, the one time you're allowed to sleep in."
"Oh ha ha ha mister high-and-mighty," Lyra rolled her eyes.
"Hard not to be when you've got me a good three feet off the ground."
"Think of it as a belated birthday gift, considering puberty hasn't given you that growth spurt you've been whining about for the past fourteen years!" Lyra quipped as she gently set him on his feet, "Anyways, I would've still been able to take the car with you if I hadn't had to ransack your room for something to wear."
"My room?" Adrien raised a brow, "Why would you need clothes from my room?"
"When I got out of the shower this morning the outfit I'd laid out was soaking wet, so I obviously couldn't wear it. Then when I went to grab a spare outfit from my duffel bag it was empty: I think one of the maids took everything in it to be laundered," Lyra shrugged, "Crazy stroke of bad luck, huh?"
"Yeah," Adrien agreed, sounding a bit nervous, "Bad luck,"
Marinette wanted to scream while all this was happening. She was so incredibly jealous that Lyra got to live in Adrien's house with him, got to eat and go to school and back with him, got tease and joke with him and just have a general conversation while she couldn't even string a coherent sentence while he was around. But as she watched them banter back and forth some more she noticed what Lyra had meant with her dig. The female blonde was taller than Adrien, not by much, but enough to be noticeable. And when she really took a good look at them side by side she noticed that they really did look a lot a like. They could have been twins with how much they resembled each other.
Just as Marinette had that thought, Alya gave voice to it,
"Are you guys twins or something?" she asked.
The pair looked at Alya for a moment, then at each other, and then back at Alya. A moment of awkward silence passed before the two started laughing.
"Twins?" Lyra managed to get out between giggles, "We're not twins, we're cousins."
"Yeah," Adrien chimed in, "Our mothers were twin sisters, and we take after them."
"What do you mean by 'were'?" Chloe asked, rather insensitively.
Adrien and Lyra's expressions of happiness instantly dropped. Her hand found his and their fingers wove together, squeezing tight.
"That," Lyra tried to give a cheerful expression, but it only came out pained and forced, "is something we'd rather not talk about."
Another awkward silence descended over the class. Lyra gave one last squeeze before letting go and she turned to Chloe, "I don't blame you for asking, it is something that happened a long time ago: but it's one of those wounds you never really heal from."
"Alright," Miss Bustier intervened, "Lyra why don't you take a seat?"
"Sure," Lyra replied, "is anywhere fine?"
"Anywhere there's room."
"Okay," she began scanning the room one more, this time coming to a stop on Marinette and Alya, "Alya! Marin! You guys are in this class too?"
She rushed to the desk, an excited grin on her face and all traces of melancholy gone.
"Yeah," Alya replied, "Funny coincidence huh?"
"Please it's more like fate!" Lyra countered, "Miss Bustier?" she said as she glanced at the teacher, "Do you mind if I sit with Alya and Marin? Otherwise I'd have to sit all by myself," whatever look she'd given the teacher was enough to convince her, as Miss Bustier nodded her assent and allowed Lyra to pull up a chair next to Marinette.
The lessons began and continued without issue until the lunch break, when Miss Bustier dismissed them.
Immediately Lyra yanked Marinette out of her seat and gave her a hug, confusing everyone still in the classroom.
"I'm sorry," Lyra apologized as she let go, stepping behind Marinette and running her hands down the designer's arms and the line of her back, "But I've been holding this in all morning! I'm jealous of you Marin!" she squealed, as though delighted instead of actually envious.
"Jealous?" Marinette questioned, "Why would you be jealous of me?"
"Why wouldn't I be? I mean, you have the perfect figure! Don't you think so Adiekins?"
Adrien stopped packing away his books and stared at his cousin and, by extension, Marinette. Marinette felt her face begin to heat up.
"Um, I guess so?" Adrien replied, more than unsure of his answer.
"Um, you guess so?" Lyra repeated in a mocking tone, "Don't you have eyes? Just look at her!" she said as she lifted one of Marinette's arms, "She's so slender, and graceful, and petite," Lyra gushed, "Oh! You'd be a perfect Prima Marin!" she sighed dreamily.
"Prima?" Alya asked, "Where is all this coming from?" she looked to Adrien, "Mind filling us all in Adiekins?"
Adrien blushed at the use of his cousin's childhood nickname, "Lyra here is a dancer. She loves ballet and she's obsessed with the figures of people, especially if she thinks they'd be perfect for ballet," he turned to his cousin, "That reminds me, why are you here at this school Lyra?"
Lyra sighed and stepped out from behind Marinette, "You got me: typically the exchange students go to the sister school when they come abroad. But father insisted that I catch up on my studies while here in France. Even the best all-girls academy in New York is too lenient for his tastes. I'm only allowed to go to the academy on the weekends, and that's only if I keep up my grades and my extracurricular activities. At this rate I'll never get to study my dance, and my school's company needs me!"
Marinette, overcome with curiosity, asked, "Why's that?"
"Because, in the case of my school: I'm the Prima," Lyra replied as though everyone should know what she was talking about.
Adrien shook his head, "Try using layman's terms please,"
Lyra nodded, "Right, sorry. It means that I'm the principal dancer in my company: specifically for all the male leads in our recitals."
"You dance the male parts?" Nino asked in confusion, "But you're a girl."
"Back in America I attend a very prestigious all-girls academy. I'm part of the dance company and because I'm so tall and have the strength needed, I've been chosen to play all the male leads throughout my time there. But in my school, all of the taller girls play the male roles," Lyra explained, "And if I don't keep up with my training here, I'll never break out of the male role. This is my chance to study the female dance routines, if I can prove myself I can get into an internationally acclaimed dance company: like the Russian Ballet!" her eyes were starry, and to Alya Lyra looked the same way Marinette did when talking about her dreams of becoming a world renown fashion designer.
"Sounds like a lot of work," Alya commented.
"it is," Lyra agreed, "But it'll all be worth it in the end. I know it!" she turned to Marinette and Alya, "So, you guys are friends with Adrien and Nino?"
"Yeah," Alya replied, "Why, do they never talk about us?"
"Well, I don't talk with Nino much. But Adrien's never said a word about having female friends, at least: not normal ones like you."
"And who's abnormal?" Alya asked.
"That little snob, Chloe," Lyra rolled her eyes in disgust, "Of course, I already knew about her."
Alya raised a brow, "You did?"
"Naturally, she might not remember: but her, Adrien and I used to play together when we were little. She was spoiled rotten even back then, and I can see it's only gotten worse. My favorite thing to do when we had to play together was to play hide and seek. I'd find Adrien first and then 'accidently' forget to find Chloe until it was time for her and her father to leave. And the way I always got out of trouble was by telling her she was just too good of a hider," Lyra chuckled at the recollection.
"So you and Adrien used to play together?" Alya pressed.
"All the time," Lyra affirmed, "Why?"
"Think there's anything about him you could tell us? We don't really have to chance to get to know him since it seems like he's always jetting off to some photo-shoot or something."
Lyra's grin turned knowing, "Ah yes, my cousin the model. But don't let the cool façade fool you. My cousin is, and always has been, the biggest dork on the planet."
"Oh really?" Alya subtly nudged Marinette.
"Absolutely," Lyra went on, "When he was little he wanted to be a comedian. Not a bad choice of career, mind you, but his type of jokes…" she groaned.
"What were they?" Nino asked, genuinely curious by this information.
"Puns," Lyra deadpanned, "And not good ones, I mean like really, really bad ones. Of course, it might have been partly my fault since I laughed anyway and egged him on in pun-offs."
"Okay," Adrien cut in, "I think it's time to go," he said as he grabbed Lyra by the arm.
"What's the hurry cousin?" Lyra asked lackadaisically, "Afraid I'll ruin your rep?" her expression was reminiscent of one masked superhero Marinette fought with on a daily basis.
"No, but if we want to eat we need to get going now," he tugged again.
Lyra's eyes darted between Adrien and the rest of the group, twinkling with mischief when they settled on Marinette and Alya, "Fine," she acquiesced with her cousin's wishes, "Don't worry," she said to Alya and Marinette, "We'll get together sometime, and I'll tell you every embarrassing story about him I know."
"Come on!" Adrien pulled, finally managing to make his cousin move, "The car's waiting for us."
"car?" Lyra said on her way out, "Why would we need a car to go to the cafeteria?"
"Cafeteria? What's that?" Adrien asked.
"It's like a dining hall attached to the school where students go to get food and eat during the lunch period. It's a big thing in America, trust me."
"Well here in France, we don't do that…" Adrien began to explain as they exited the classroom.
Alya turned to Nino and Marinette, "So, what did you guys think of her?"
"She's so different from Adrien," Nino replied, "But I like it!" he grabbed his bag and headed out, "Later dudes!"
"And you Marinette? Did you like her?"
Marinette couldn't speak, she was too excited by the prospect of learning more about her crush. A stupid grin was plastered across her face and her eyes were wide with joy.
Alya chuckled, "I'll take that as a yes. Come on," she said as she nudged her friend, "Let's go get something to eat."
Early Friday morning, Adrien heard clamoring about somewhere in the house. Quietly he slipped out of bed and nudged at Plagg, his Kwami companion.
"Plagg," he whispered, prodding at the little black cat, "Plagg, wake up."
Plagg yawned and turned over, but said nothing.
"Plagg!" Adrien whispered a little louder.
"What?" Plagg whined, "Can't you see I'm dreaming of cheese?"
"Someone's in the house," Adrien whispered.
"No duh Captain obvious," Plagg replied, "Your dad always has servants around, even at this hour. What are you worried about? Go back to bed," Plagg turned over, fully intent on returning to dreamland.
Adrien huffed in exasperation before picking Plagg up between his thumb and index finger, "No one my father employs makes this much racket at this hour. We need to investigate."
"Why do we need to investigate?" Plagg complained, "Can't you just call security or whatever it is you have?"
"Quit complaining," Adrien said as he slipped out of his room and began making his way down the halls, "It sounds like whoever's there is in the kitchen, so if we scare them off, you can get a nice slice of Camenbert before you go back to sleep."
With the prospect of cheese in his future Plagg agreed to stay close to Adrien and together they crept down to the kitchen. What they saw in said room was the last thing they expected to see. Lyra, still in her pajamas no less, was at the cooking implements and working them like an expert, humming along to a song filtering from her sound-system. She flitted from one counter space to the next: cubing chicken fillets and placing them into a container, checking on something boiling in a pot at the stove, and singing along to the song that Adrien now recognized was in English. It took a few minutes to switch his brain over and understand.
"I can't help it if I make a scene, steppin' out of my hot pink limousine. I'm turnin' heads and I'm stoppin' traffic when I pose they scream and when I joke they laugh. I've got a pair of eyes that they're getting lost in. They're hypnotized by my way of walkin'. I've got'em dazzled like a stage magician: when I point they look and when I talk they listen- Oh!"
Lyra stopped and paused the music when she noticed her cousin in the room with her. Plagg, having decided the girl was no imminent threat to the city or Adrien had gone back to Adrien's room, deciding to remind his keeper of his promise later.
"Good morning Adrien," Lyra greeted brightly, turning back to the stove and taking the pot off the burner.
"Morning Lyra," Adrien slurred, still half-asleep and a bit bewildered by the scene before him.
"What are you doing up this early?" she asked.
"I could ask you the same question," he replied.
"This afternoon I'm going to be practicing at the dance academy. I was so excited I woke up early," Lyra explained.
"But why are you cooking?" Adrien asked.
"Well, I wanted to hang out with your friends and get to know them a little more. So I decided to make lunch for the five of us."
Adrien glanced over at the clock, "At six in the morning?"
"Well, this meal needs to be prepped," Lyra told him, "I bake the chicken and cook the noodles now and then it'll only take around five minutes to cook later."
"Okay, so what are you planning to make us?"
"Chicken stir-fry with rice noodles, bean sprouts, and sweet and sour sauce," Lyra said brightly, "It's one of my favorite meals to make!"
"Sounds good," Adrien yawned as he leaned against the fridge, "What were you listening to earlier?"
"Just a song from one of my favorite shows," Lyra waved the question off, "Speaking of which, have you been able to check out that show I recommended?"
"Which one? You send me five every time we talk," Adrien laughed.
"You know, the reboot?" Lyra raised a brow.
"That doesn't exactly narrow it down," Adrien replied.
Lyra sighed good-naturedly, "You know, the one involving your favorite golden-haired, sailor-suit wearing heroine?"
"Crystal?" Adrien asked, Lyra nodded, "Haven't had a chance yet. I've been pretty busy lately."
"Don't I know it," Lyra said with understanding, "Do you ever think sometimes our fathers are competing to see which kid can turn out more accomplished in life?"
"It certainly feels like it sometimes," Adrien agreed.
"Well, at least I have my dancing as an outlet for all the craziness. But what do you have Adie?"
He wanted to tell her not to worry, that he had an outlet where he was free to be the Adrien she had known him to be their whole lives, but he couldn't. She hadn't been Akumatized yet, but that wasn't to say it couldn't happen at all. So he stayed silent.
She looked at him wistfully, and Adrien knew she was going back to the past. To the days where he had been the way he was now as Chat Noir instead of Adrien Agreste: model in both academics and profession. Lyra sighed and poured a bit of olive oil over the rice noodles in the colander, working the substance through before placing the noodles in a container as well. Drying off her hands on a hand-towel she piled the chicken container on top and placed both in the fridge, setting a hand on Adrien's shoulder. They shared a look and an unspoken conversation, and then Lyra brightened up.
"Well anyways, we'll be having Nino, Alya, and Marin over for lunch today. So please, try to have fun."
"I'll try," Adrien agreed.
"Promise?" Lyra that optimistically expectant look on her face and her pinkie held out. It was a stupid tradition carried over from childhood, one they both should have grown out of by now. But Lyra was his first friend, and despite the way she liked to prod at him and embarrass him, he knew it always came from a place of love. She didn't like the Adrien Agreste everyone thought they knew: the cool confident model who appeared to have it all. She liked the Adrien he was only able to be now when he was disguised as Chat Noir. She liked the cocky, dorky, bad-pun making Adrien that he had been as a child, and she wanted to see him again. Adrien found he couldn't deny her that much.
"Promise," he said, looping his pinkie with hers and shaking on it.
"Good," Lyra beamed and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "Now let's go back to bed, this conversation has tired me out."
And together they left, each going to their separate rooms, only to wake an hour or so later when their alarms simultaneously went off.
So, Lyra in this story is supposed to be part of the inspiration for the side of Adrien that comes out when he's Chat Noir, and yes I will be using that spelling of the name because I like the way it looks better. Lyra is essentially what Adrien could have been without Chat Noir if his father had let him act his age.
Anyways: please leave a review and let me know what you think!
