He turned on the television one day and was instantly attracted to her.

With dark locks tied in loose pigtails, pale skin with contrasting ruby red lips, and a pretty smile whose beauty was only elevated by the surreal glow of the orange lights around her, it was no wonder it was love at first sight.

He craved to be with her, to be near her, to be on that stage with her, dancing and singing alongside the miraculous, out-of-reach teenager, but all he could do was wistfully touch his television screen, his eyes intently watching her every graceful movement, from the way she twirled around on her feet to the way her lips elegantly fluctuated. Her voice resounded in his ears—a sweet tune much like a songbird's, full of tenderness and emotion. His eyes flickered with need as he watched the young girl bow and wave to her plethora of adoring fans. She then looked at the camera and winked, and suddenly he found himself on the floor with a heart that's beating a bit too quickly and a bit too strongly.

Adrien Agreste was indefinitely, head-over-heels in love.

Being the founder and president of the Ladybug fan club was nothing to scoff at. He worked hard every day to stay up to date with everything that concerned Ladybug, from all her interviews to her latest fashion trends (this week's fashion trend was everything black). Together with the help of his close accomplices, Alya and Chloé, their blog ended up being the most respected and trustworthy Ladybug blog on the Internet. He was proud, to say the least.

While he was typing away on a new article concerning Ladybug's latest obsession with vanilla bean crème frappucinos and croissants, Alya suddenly burst through the door and started yelling at the top of her lungs. The blond recoiled in shock, his train of thought broken which caused him to twitch in annoyance. Regardless, Alya continued to shout some nonsensical words in his ears. All he could make out was Ladybug (naturally), making him immediately quirk an eyebrow in sudden interest.

"Calm down, Alya," he said loud enough so it was at least above her volume. When she finally did as she was told, Adrien continued in his usual soft voice, "What's this about Ladybug?"

"She's in a bakery right now as we speak! C'mon, we have to go," she urged, violently tugging his arm. He let her drag himself out of the club room and outside, where they both began running as if their lives depended on it towards the supposed bakery where Ladybug was spotted.

Lo and behold, they found the girl standing outside of the bakery eating a croissant in a peaceful lonesome. She donned huge, black glasses that covered the entirety of her face, her petite frame draped in a matching trench coat. Her dark hair wasn't in their usual signature pigtails and was down instead, softly curled at the tips. Despite her best efforts to conceal herself, he knew he could recognize her from anywhere, from the way she moved in the same elegant manner he had studied for what seemed like forever.

He tried to contain his excitement through long, deep breaths but to no avail. He was internally screaming, wanting so badly to just rush up to her side and ask her so many questions, and maybe even potentially get a phone number out of her as well as a signature on his back (that he would like to have tattooed). Alya, on the other hand, was externally screaming, pointing at the superstar and tugging at his arm again to signal to run towards her. Ladybug immediately noticed their odd behaviors but surprisingly didn't move a muscle, continuing to joyfully eat the remnants of her croissant.

When they finally caught up to where Ladybug was, she waved at the two as she finished the rest of her pastry. "Hello," she said, her voice even more angelic than he remembered hearing from behind the television screen. She took off her sunglasses to reveal sparkling blue oceans that made his stomach rumble in nervousness. She eyed him carefully, glancing at him up and down, expressionless. "You're a model, right?"

Dumbfounded, he pointed at himself. Ladybug looked at him oddly before giving out a short giggle. He blushed, both embarrassed and honored that she would recognize him, as sometimes he himself forgot he was a model. "Adrien Agreste?"

"Y-yeah… that's me…"

Her eyes sparkled even more, looking more like sapphires now. "You're my favorite model, Agreste. I was actually hoping to bump into you while in Paris."

"O-oh… really…?" He felt like he was about to faint (though fortunately, Alya, uncharacteristically quiet, was there to support him when he really was about to fall backwards). He was haughty and over the moon at the same time, reveling in the fact that he had somehow garnered the attention of his longtime crush.

"Can he get your phone number?" Alya asked, as if reading his thoughts.

Ladybug looked at them for a long while before answering, "Well, I'm not supposed to just give it out…"

Adrien frowned, slightly disappointed. "I won't give it out to anyone else. I promise," he offered softly, twiddling his thumbs.

She looked at him for a long time again before answering, her eyes flickering with conflict. "Um, I guess I could since I am a fan of your work. Just don't give it to anyone else." She looked at Alya with an apologetic frown. "Sorry about this. Nothing personal."

Alya just laughed. "I don't mind."

Ladybug flipped out her cellphone, a cute ladybug charm dangling from her case. Adrien took out his own phone. The two exchanged phones and started typing in their respective phone numbers, the blond basking in the brief brushing of hands during the exchange. Then, they gave each other's phone back, Ladybug telling them that she had to leave for practice soon.

And with that, Ladybug was off, her figure slowly dissipating into nothingness. Alya was back to her regular screeching habit, hugging the blond like a proud mother. "I can't believe you have Ladybug's number!"

Adrien offered a goofy grin. "I can't believe it either…"

Having Ladybug's cell phone number was a dream come true. All he wanted to do was text her every day, constantly, incessantly, but when he thought about it, he realized he didn't want to seem like a bother, else she block him out of necessity. So he fidgeted all day, waiting for the right moment to make his move and try some casual conversation with her. He wracked his head over what exactly to start the conversation with. "Hey" was too casual. "Hello" seemed too formal. "What's up" was completely out of the question. So what exactly should he say?

A ping on his phone interrupted his mind blogging thoughts. He turned to his phone and saw the name on his screen: Ladybug. With a swipe of a finger, he started reading the text message, albeit short.

Hey Agreste. How are you?

He started typing out an answer which turned into a huge paragraph of what exactly he was doing, describing everything with the minutest of details, but then he smacked his head in order to bring his thoughts back to reality. He couldn't show her that he was so desperate to talk to her like this. He also couldn't possibly reply in only under a minute. He had to wait at least ten minutes minimum lest he seem like a creepy stalker or somet—

He looked down and realized he had accidentally hit sent.

He blanched.

He immediately started typing out an apology, which also ended up turning into a huge block paragraph filled with the most nonsense he has ever read in his life, but before he could try to send it and remedy the solution, he heard a ping followed by another ping.

Haha, you're hilarious, Agreste. :)

Will you be going to my concert tonight? I'll send VIP tickets to you and your friends if you want!

His mouth was wide open. Ladybug was such an angel, he thought dreamily. He replied with a "I already have VIP tickets!" which got him a prompt reply (complete with cute emoticons).

He continued to text her the entire afternoon, the two exchanging messages one after another, talking about modeling and singing and later going on into casual conversation about anything they could think of. They never talked about the weather or asked each other their favorite color; their conversation flowed naturally, as if they had known each other for the longest time.

Shrill screams echoed in the air as Ladybug danced and sang on the stage. Adrien was in the front row with an excited Alya and an indignant and jealous Chloé ("You have her phone number?" she had yelled in his ear angrily, not talking to him the rest of the night). The crowd was packed and it was almost impossible to move, but he didn't mind because he was able to watch this epitome of perfection glide across the stage, all smiles and winks.

He was so close he felt like he could touch her, yet she also seemed so far away from him, so out of reach. The entire time, all he could think about was how they had caught each other's eyes during the middle of one of his favorite songs, and she had winked at him in response. It reminded him of the way she winked at the camera the first time he had ever seen her perform.

At that moment, he was sucked even deeper in the black hole of love.

After the concert was over, most of the attendees were forced to leave. Ladybug personally came up to him and his group, asking them if they could stay for a while so they could talk after she was finished cooling down; so the trio waited patiently, hugging each other in triumph (Chloé had forgiven him by then and respected Ladybug too much to ask for her number from him, but he could still sense the seething jealousy in her high-pitched voice).

"We're so lucky she likes Adrien," Alya mused out loud. "We can probably have VIP access to her constantly now! And with Adrien having her number, he can tell us stuff that no one knows about!"

"I… wouldn't do that to her," he said quietly, but his voice wasn't heard.

Chloé and Alya continued to gush about Ladybug until, speak of the devil, the superstar herself came down to them with a small wave. "Hi again."

The trio squeaked out different variations of a reply ("Hello," "H-hi," "Oh my gosh, hey"), Ladybug slowly making her way towards them with a strut fit for a famous sensation like herself. Adrien noticed her hair was down again, wavy from having it in pigtails the entire concert. He couldn't deny how beautiful she looked with just wavy hair and a simple, modest shirt.

His female accomplices were immediately all over Ladybug, asking her all sorts of questions that overwhelmed even him. He wasn't able to process them all, but Ladybug, on the other hand, expertly answered them all in her usual short, sweet, and to the point manner. Adrien was to the side and wasn't able to weave into the conversation, but he still felt happy just being near her. If only… if only he could touch her, caress her in his arms, kiss those soft ruby red lips, he would be able to die happily.

After a while, Chloé and Alya had to "leave" (the two winked at him knowingly), finally leaving Adrien all alone with Ladybug. Over text, he found it really easy talking to her, but as he stood in front of her, taking in everything that was Ladybug, he found it difficult to say a simple greeting.

"Agreste." He took in a long breath. "It's good to see you again. I liked our text conversation. You're quite the talker."

"Err, thanks," he said.

It was silent between them afterward—a long, awkward silence—and panic started washing over his face as he wondered if Ladybug was bored of him. But he saw a reassuring smile from her, and the panic dissipated.

"Want to go for a walk? I have some time before I can leave."

Adrien nodded in agreement, following suit. He watched the way she walked, the same elegant way she would always move. Even off the stage, it looked like her feet were floating off the ground. She was just so surreal, she didn't seem real, didn't seem tangible.

He stretched his arm up to her, to touch her, but then he retracted, fearful, trepidation in his eyes, and just looked away, continuing to follow her outside. He noticed how she slowed her steps and started mirroring his pace until they were side by side. There was an eerily comfortable silence between them now, lacking the previous awkwardness from before, only broken by Ladybug's random sneeze.

He couldn't hold in his laughter, and he heard her start laughing too. Then, the two started talking, their conversation flowing just like their text conversations, short moments of quiet peace between them every once in a while. Adrien was surprised how confident he sounded, not stuttering or stammering at all. It was like she gave him the strength to be himself, and it made him feel so open, so free.

Before long, they were interrupted by a beeping noise. It came from Ladybug's phone, a signal that their time together had come to an end.

She apologized and excused herself, hurriedly running away from him. He only looked back wistfully, wondering why even after talking to her so much, she still felt like a goddess and he a simple, mortal man.

Ladybug had a new interview from a renowned celebrity news station. They asked so many questions, and he promptly recorded each and every single new information on a new article for his Ladybug blog.

What's your favorite color? Red.

What do you spend most of your money on? Probably food.

Which other celebrities are the most influential? My rival, Volpina.

Favorite animal? Hamster.

What do you do when not working? Hang out with friends. Work out in the gym.

Favorite past time? Yo-yo and gymnastics.

Do you like anyone?

Adrien noticed how she stayed quiet for this question. She didn't answer until the awkward silence had really settled in and the interviewer looked around nervously, unnerved. "I do, but they're out of my league."

Adrien's heart stopped. He wondered who exactly this lucky jerk was.

He couldn't help but think he wanted to rip this guy to shreds.

It had been a week since his last conversation with Ladybug. He did send her one text, but he thought it was probably meaningless in her sea of text messages. He was probably just a dirty speck to her, lowly and insignificant. Naturally, she didn't have time for him.

He sighed and stared at his Ladybug poster, brushing his fingers against the cool paper.

Updating the Ladybug blog felt like a chore for him, now that the looming question of who she exactly has a crush now invaded his mind. Every interview after the last one that had asked about her crush were constantly pestering her about who the lucky boy was. She never succumbed to the pressure of answering and kept telling everyone the same thing: "They're out of my league."

It angered him how society was so caught up in romance, bothering his princess with the same old question that she was clearly uncomfortable about. Beforehand, Ladybug had never expressed any infatuation with anyone, staying as pure as an angel. Now that there was something spicy she wasn't telling anyone, her popularity seemed to increase even more and suddenly everyone was gossiping about who it could possibly be.

It must be that Egyptian model she hangs out with, he overheard someone say.

No, it has to be Volpina. Have you seen the way the two look at each other?

Um, don't you guys clearly realize it has to be none other than her favorite back up dancer?

Everyone, everywhere, was talking about Ladybug's love life. Every single person she was found hanging out with was a possible suspect. Suddenly, the goddess he once craned his head to look up to was someone who felt tangible, real. Still, he felt like he stood no chance, even despite supposedly her being a fan of him. Being a fan was on a completely different level than being in love.

And that was when, for the first time in his life, he questioned his love for Ladybug. Was he truly in love, or was this just an obsession that will later fade?

Sorry I haven't been texting you. I've been busy. :(

He didn't answer immediately this time. He waited and waited and waited, until he felt his fingers fidgeting in anticipation, his heart aching. He wanted to talk to his princess, his lady, but the thought of her not reciprocating his feelings pained him. Just talking to her again would pain him even more.

Nonetheless, he responded, and the two continued their usual conversation. Everything was casual between them. Nothing out of the ordinary was talked about, except Ladybug mentioned coming back to Paris to do a photoshoot for a magazine cover. She mentioned that her agents were trying to find the perfect person to model alongside her for the cover, and sooner or later, she mentioned that one of her agents said his name on a list of potential candidates. She then said if she were to model with anyone, she really hoped it would be with him. His chest tightened.

He can't get over this girl. Right when he was about to tear down the pedestal he for her, he realized it was indestructible. Right when he decided to take out cupid's arrow, he realized it was too deep in his skin to be safely removed. He wanted out of his hell, but she was a temptress, luring him in even further to his eminent doom.

Even then, he still felt his lips itching to curl upward. He was happy, to say the least, and would only hope that he would be able to model with his Ladybug.

When Nathalie walked in one day with news of modeling with none other than Ladybug, he felt his face flicker between excitement and trepidation. He wanted to be able to be close to Ladybug, yet he feared he would fumble all over himself.

He prepared himself by taking in deep breaths, in and out, in and out. He played piano to relieve his stress and practiced different poses in front of his full view mirrors, trying to decide which ones were the best.

It had finally come time for the photoshoot in the afternoon. Ladybug was already lounging around in front of the cameras, winking at the camera as she usually did. When Adrien walked in, she seemed to notice him immediately and was motioning for him to hurry up and come over to her. Of course, he went up to her and waved—short and shy. She laughed, patting him on the back to relax.

He tried his best to, and as the photoshoot went on, he felt increasingly more comfortable around Ladybug. She was a natural at modeling, though that would make sense considering how many magazine covers she has posed for already. She commented on how great he was as well, matching her poses with his own unique ones. Their chemistry was well balanced, their poses telling a secret story between only each other. The photographer was impressed with their performance and didn't even have to tell them what kind of poses they needed to do. Just like their conversations, their posing with each other was natural, comfortable.

Soon enough, the photoshoot ended. The photographer showed the two a couple pictures and asked them if they wanted to keep any of them. That suggestion made him cock an eyebrow in interest, for he wanted to keep all these pictures, even the ones that weren't as glamorous. Seeing a side of an imperfect Ladybug made her seem more human rather than the angel he had made her out to be. He wanted to treasure that side of her; he wanted to be the only person to be able to see that side of her.

Ladybug picked out her absolute favorite pictures, and to save himself from sheer embarrassment, Adrien picked out his own set of favorites, specifically picking ones where it showed a side of Ladybug that he wanted all to his own.

"This is going to be my new wallpaper," Ladybug told him with a sly grin, taking a picture of the photo. It was one where they were dancing, his arm around her slim waist, their hands clasped loosely. Ladybug's face was barely visible, but Adrien's face was in full view, loving eyes peering at the dark-haired girl. He really hoped the girl didn't notice how much in love he was with her.

Adrien framed all the photoshoot pictures in his room, next to all his Ladybug posters. All of them were signed with her signature ladybug insignia except for a particular one—the first poster he had ever gotten of her. He did actually want to get it signed, but the young, inexperienced Ladybug was a shy and reserved child who refused to have any fan interaction. He still remembered the way their eyes had locked for a split second, where he noticed how sad she looked.

He had always wondered what made her so sad that day. He chalked it up to the stress of a newfound celebrity life, but the melancholy evident in her eyes in that split second seemed too deep to simply be sadness out of stress. She almost seemed… like she wanted something but couldn't have it—much like how he felt about her.

One day, Ladybug called him spontaneously.

"Hey, Agreste. How are you?"

"I'm good. Just eating right now."

"You eating alone?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Just a hunch. I eat all alone too… Want to eat together some time? My treat."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly let a lady pay for my meal. I'll treat."

"Ha, how about we just split? I eat a lot though. Just warning you."

"We'll see about that, my lady. Err, I mean…"

"No, no, I like that. I like you calling me your lady. It's cute and really clever."

"Oh, well then, I'll see you around, my lady?"

"Definitely. See you, handsome boy."

He wasn't sure whether or not Ladybug considered their outing as a date, but he secretly told himself that it was, so he prepared in every way possible. He dressed up in semi-fancy attire and made sure to brush his teeth multiple times before the date. He pushed his bangs out of his face and even wore classy black frames (because he saw in an interview that Ladybug really liked glasses).

He waited at their supposed meeting location, a bakery, with much anticipation surging throughout the entirety of his body. All he could think of was if he looked okay and if he actually went too far with his outfit: a model classic with nice tawny pants, a white button down shirt, and a blue scarf he had gotten on his birthday. Certainly he could've gotten more casual?

He suddenly wanted to go back home and change, but it was too late. He heard the all-too-familiar angelic voice say "hey there, handsome boy," making him turn around and look at the girl. He gawked. She was wearing black tights and a red ruffle skirt with black polka dots. A sleeveless black crop top covered her, a dark blue cardigan hanging loosely from her arms. She was wearing giant red glasses. Her face was the pièce de résistance, with her signature ruby red lipstick applied perfectly on her lips, her blue eyes perfectly framed by dark black mascara, her cheeks flushed and feminine and a huge contrast against her otherwise pale skin. She really did look like an angel.

Adrien felt his cheeks get hot. "You look lovely, my lady."

"And you look lovely yourself, handsome boy," she said with a wicked smile. He scoffed, playfully punching her in the arm as she returned the favor, and the two then went into the bakery, both in a very good mood.

After they had ordered their respective lunches, they began talking. It was their usual flowing conversation, talking about anything casual, until they were interrupted by screams; and all of a sudden there are people crowding their table, taking pictures. Even though he was a model, the unwarranted flashes were dizzying and making him have a headache. Ladybug seemed to ignore them, but from the crease in-between her eyebrows, it was clear she was annoyed.

"Sorry about this, Agreste," she said empathetically, covering her face with one perfectly manicured hand.

Everyone around them was scrambling, screaming, asking them if they were together and if not, when they'll get together, because apparently the idea of Ladybug being with a cute, blond Parisian model was absolutely adorable and everyone wanted it to happen.

But Ladybug only let out a breathy sigh, followed by an annoyed hiss. With an unresponsive Ladybug, everyone suddenly turned their attention to him, and he was bombarded with flashes and questions and screams.

"Do you like her?"

"Are you guys going out?"

"When are you going to be having kids?"

It was all too overwhelming and overbearingly inappropriate. He just wanted everything to stop. He just wanted peace and quiet with his lady. He just wanted—

"We're not going out," Ladybug said firmly. Then, she looked at the cameras, looked at them with the same expression he had once seen on her—an unknown melancholy—before quietly stating: "But I want us to."

All over the headlines were the words "Ladybug: In Love With Supermodel Adrien Agreste?" Everyone was talking all about it, spreading rumors of him not accepting her feelings and of him loving someone else, but as with most rumors, none of them were true. If her feelings were genuine, he did love her back and wanted oh so badly to be her significant other.

He had holed himself up in his room all the while, waiting for the sudden excitement to die down. Random passersby had been ringing his doorbell nonstop these past few days, and he still had no explanation from Ladybug ever since she ran away from the bakery during their lunch together. He had been desperately trying to get in touch with her afterward but to no avail. She refused to answer any of his calls or reply to any of his text messages. Even her secretary told him that she did not want to be receiving any messages at the time. It was like she had holed herself away from everyone just like him.

In his lonesome, he began to muse the possibilities of Ladybug having a crush on him. Was it possible that she did? She did recognize him immediately when they had first met that one fateful day, and she even told him he was her favorite model and was hoping to bump into him. However, during all their conversations, she never made any indication of liking him back. They were all just casual words, spoken in the most casual way, as if they were only comfortable with each other and nobody else.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized how she had been looking at him the same way he looked at her: longing, yearning, wanting, needing. He recognized the expression well because he wore it all the time. He can't believe he never recognized it on hers, though, most likely because he was too caught up in his own fervor and emotions to realize her own reciprocated feelings.

He made yet another attempt at calling her, his foot nervously tapping on the floor. Tap… Beep… Tap… Beep… Then—

"Hello?"

The voice of an angel.

"It's me. Adrien," he breathed out, surprised to hear her voice after so long. "How are you holding up?"

"Annoyed but fine. Sorry about everything." She paused, then said, "I really do like you, Agreste. But I don't think it'll work out. I think my attraction to you is more borderline obsession than love."

So, they were one in the same?

She continued, "I've always loved your modeling work, ever since I was a kid. You were the same age as me yet you excelled at so much… I wanted to be as great as you, but I always thought you were way beyond my league…"

He wanted to tell her she was the one beyond his league.

"I read everything about you. I learned everything about you from articles. I was completely and utterly entranced by you, Agreste, and I still am…"

"Then, let's work it out," Adrien said softly, a trace of hope hidden between the lines.

He heard her sigh. "Like I said, I don't think it'll work out. I'm not sure if it's love… If it's obsession… If it's anything at all… But I want us to continue having a relationship like this. I don't want you to leave me when I'm finally this close to you. I don't want to ruin what we already have…"

He usually never said what he thought. He was usually quiet, reserved. But right now, right then, he needed to tell her, and so he did. He told her how he was her number one fan. He told her how he was completely and utterly obsessed and devoted to her as she was to him, and that he was even the president of a fan club made specifically for her, running a blog in his spare time. He told her that he too wasn't sure whether or not it was obsession or love or neither or both or whatever. He wasn't sure where the lines intersected, where they blurred, where they were parallel; but he told her that over course of their time spent together, after learning about each other and being comfortable in their casual conversation, he knew that there must be a love, however small, between them that needed to be nurtured and tended to in order to blossom properly.

And she started laughing, not because he was funny, but because they were both in the same situation and they had never known. It must be fate, she had said, for us to have liked each other in such a similar manner.

And so, they both ended up promising each other to work hard—to try to learn how to love each other, truly and wholeheartedly, no matter how long it took.

That day, he tore down all his Ladybug posters, save for the one with no signature.

News of Adrien Agreste and Ladybug finally being together were the biggest headline to date. Talk about them was everywhere, and everywhere they went there were people with their cameras readied, taking pictures of the raging new cutest couple on the streets of Paris.

The two had talked every day since they started going out. They talked about anything and everything, as per usual, but they made sure to learn something new about the other every day, be it something as small as their favorite gemstone or something more convoluted. Being obsessed with each other for the longest time, they found it hilarious that they already knew much about each other despite only having physically met for a mere couple of months, but they still somehow find new and different facts they didn't even know about themselves to tell each other.

He felt like he knew everything about her, but there was always something new every day, and it was so exciting, so invigorating. Alya and Chloé were constantly congratulating him on his new girlfriend, and he constantly found himself under the celebrity radar and was even a part of Ladybug interviews nowadays. The limelight wasn't as great as people make it out to be, but he didn't care, because his girlfriend was great and that's all that mattered.

Ladybug poked his nose, pushing against his chest. "Adrien, I need to leave for my flight. Don't make me late, you jerk."

He stuck out his tongue, wrapping his arms even tighter around the small girl. "Bleh. Just late me savor these moments. I won't be seeing you for a month so give me some slack."

"Fine, fine. Just a while longer, but only five more minutes, okay?"

"Deal."

And the two cuddled into each other, and Adrien nuzzled his nose into his girlfriend's dark locks, taking in her sweet, alluring scent. This would be the last time he'll be able to smell such an angelic scent, he thought to himself, snickering.

Ladybug started pushing him again. "Okay, Adrien, time's up. Let me go."—and he obliged, unwrapping his arms from around her waist, watching her get up. Her face was flushed and her hair was a mess, but he thought she still looked like an angel. His angel.

"I'm gonna go now, Adrien." She quickly added with a peck to his cheek, "I'll miss you. Love you, Adrien."

He smiled, pecking her cheek back. "I love you too, Marinette."