Alya peeked out from behind the curtains, an embarrassed grin spreading across her face. Marinette's expression mirrored her best friend's, minus the embarrassment, and her right foot, which was tapping slowly before, now doubled the speed as Marinette leaned forward excitedly.

"Well?" Marinette said, impatient, "Let's see it!"

Alya nervously stepped out and Marinette gasped softly, admiring how the fabric wrapped itself around the reporter. Upon hearing her reaction, Alya burst out laughing.

"You've had the exact same reaction for the past three dresses! I'm beginning to think you're just faking," she teased, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

"You look so nice in all of them though!" Marinette exclaimed, gesturing helplessly at the beautiful, strapless garment clinging to Alya's body in an elegant, graceful way.

"At this point, we're never going to find a dress in time for prom."

Marinette giggled and held up another dress for Alya to try on. The two of them were shopping to find a dress for Alya, and both were ecstatic to have a fun day of dress up. With their senior year in high school nearing the end, word of prom spread fast, and almost everyone in the class was buzzing in excitement with the aspect of dressing up nicely and potentially dancing with a classmate.

Nino had wasted no time with a promposal, spending only a week to set up a small surprise to ask Alya to prom, even though it was a 100% success rate, with or without it. It was their last year, though, so everyone let him have his fun. He got the entire class to participate, each person holding a sign and a flower, so when Alya walked into class that day, everyone held up their sign, spelling out: WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME, ALYA?

Marinette had never seen Alya look so embarrassed. Not when Nino confessed to her, not the time she spilled lasagna all over herself, not even when she tripped and everyone in the class saw her orange striped underwear. Although the last one was when they were still in grade school, Alya hardly ever showed embarrassment or nervousness. She thanked all of them profusely, collecting all the flowers everyone had until she had a bouquet, and calling Nino an idiot for pulling a stunt like that. The aspiring DJ just looked proud of himself, and the class laughed when Alya punched him on the shoulder.

Everyone knew they had a high bar to jump over, and Nino just smirked every time someone complained about being unable to surpass his awesome and admittedly adorable promposal.

"She's already your girl," Marinette heard Kim groan one day, "You could have at least waited until a few of us did ours first."

Nino just clapped him on the back and grinned widely, leaning in a little.

"I could give you a few tips," he whispered mysteriously.

Kim nodded eagerly and the two boys put their heads together, muttering quietly under their breath. Marinette rolled her eyes and caught Adrien's gaze, blushing slightly, but grinning all the same. Adrien shot a smile back and she felt her heart tighten a little at the gesture. Even though she had become a lot more comfortable around her attractive classmate, Marinette was still a little shy when it came to her crush. They had talked multiple times, and other than that short period where Adrien actively avoided her, they had become pretty good friends.

Marinette wished more than anything to be able to go to prom with him, but was still ultimately too awkward to manage the words. She was going anyway, because Alya had pestered her incessantly until she finally gave in. The black haired girl refused the first time, as she had felt there was no point. It was ridiculously expensive, and Marinette didn't want to intrude on Nino and Alya, as she knew Alya would probably spend lots of time talking to her, making sure she wasn't left out, leaving a relatively neglected Nino.

They brushed all of this aside, however, and assured her that Adrien would be going, so Nino wouldn't be lonely, as well as every single one of their classmates; none of them wanting to miss out on one of the biggest events of their senior year. Chloe had gone straight to the fanciest, most luxurious store after class to pick out a dress, and bragged about her expensive and grandiose mermaid style gown she had managed to snag. No one paid her any attention but Sabrina, and the poor girl gushed about how beautiful it was as Chloe posed proudly, basking in her limited attention.

Sabrina's father didn't make a lot of money, even with his promotion, so it was unsure whether the rather plain girl would be attending. The class didn't like Chloe, but no one had a problem with Sabrina (though they wished she would stop listening to her bossy counterpart), so everyone chipped in a tiny bit (Marinette got Sabrina's father to contribute) to help her buy a ticket, surprising the girl in class. Her eyes had shone with appreciation while Chloe stared haughtily, and although the young woman glanced at the blonde as if awaiting approval, she accepted it with a smile on her face.

With everyone pumped up for prom, Marinette got swept along in the thrill of it all, and it had her grinning constantly. Of course, Marinette was designing her own dress, and although she had offered to make Alya's as well, her best friend waved her away, shaking her head.

"You're going to need all the time you can to make your dress. I got mine under control, you go create something that will knock the socks off Adrien!"

With that encouragement in mind, Marinette raced home to begin sketching out a design for her prom dress.

xxx

Alya walked out of the change room again, and this time, Marinette didn't even make a sound. Her eyes focused on the dress, and Alya could tell from her expression they had hit the jackpot.

"This is the one, huh?" Alya asked, and Marinette nodded, beaming.

It was, in every way, perfect for Alya. The off-shoulder satin dress was a creamy pink that contrasted beautifully against her skin, and the way it hugged the red head's body emphasized her curves in all the right places, fanning out at the bottom. Carefully arranged sequins were strewn around the hip, reflecting the light every time Alya moved, casting tiny rays that made her looked like she was actually sparkling. The train of the dress barely brushed the floor, and Marinette could see how much Alya loved it. There was silence as the two girls marvelled over it, until:

"Nino's going to freak," Marinette said weakly, and Alya chuckled.

This was the eighth store they've been to, and Marinette was glad they had found 'the perfect one', because they were running out of places to look. Alya bought the dress (it was on sale, much to the red head's delight), and they bounded out of the store, chatting animatedly, discussing what else they were going to do for prom. As they walked into the fabric store to pick some out for Marinette's dress, hair became a serious topic, and Alya fidgeted as the half-Chinese-half-French girl examined the cloth available.

"Do you think I should put it in an updo?" Alya questioned, "Or just leave it down? An elegant bun would be nice though, and I usually wear my hair down …"

Alya rambled and Marinette calculated how much fabric she might need. Silk, chambray, satin, or taffeta? Should she add some tulle, or maybe chiffon on it? The designer shook her head, and Alya noticed the slight scrunch of her eyebrows, a look that told her the temporary-prom-dress-maker was deep in concentration. From her bag, Alya pulled out a small stack of paper and a pencil, handing it to Marinette. The frustrated woman, who was now sitting on the floor, glanced at the papers in Alya's hand, then to her face.

"Thought you might need it," was the only explanation given, and that was all Marinette needed to understand.

She took the papers and pencil, walked over to a conveniently placed chair, and began to sketch. Alya stood quietly beside her, watching Marinette's hand fly over the page, then crumpling the paper, and restarting on a fresh sheet. She did this for ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes, until finally, she held up the third last sheet of paper for Alya to scrutinize. Marinette watched Alya's eyebrows shoot up, almost disappearing into her hair.

"Whoa," was the reply she got, and Marinette grinned proudly.

With new found inspiration, the teen stood up and made her way deeper into the store, Alya trailing behind her in amusement.

xxx

"I'm going to do it," Adrien announced, and Plagg looked over, bored.

"You've been changing your mind for the past hour," the kwami yawned.

"Should I do it?" Adrien asked.

Plagg groaned, "For goodness sake, if you want to bring her to prom so badly, just do it."

Adrien paced around his room, running his hand through his dishevelled hair, the victim of his frustration the entire hour, now pointed in all different directions. When the first murmur of prom had been brought up, his mind instantly sprang to one person. As quickly as it came, however, he pushed it away. Marinette didn't know of his feelings, and he wasn't sure if he wanted her to know. He felt conflicted, caught in his whirling emotions, half of him wanting to respect Ladybug's decision, and the other half, the less rational half, wanted to reveal himself, to tell her he liked her; both sides of her.

And if she would be willing to go to prom with him.

"This is ridiculous," Adrien exhaled before landing face first onto his bed, "I can't confess to the girl I like, because she only likes one part of me, and I can't tell her that I'm her super cool partner because she doesn't want our identities to be revealed. Now I don't know if I can or should take her to prom, and - ugh!"

Plagg snickered at his charge. Humans were so hopeless; cheese was so much better. Adrien took a deep breath and sat up on his bed. The tiny black cat gazed at him, sensing the difference in atmosphere.

"She doesn't like Chat Noir in that way," he whispered quietly to himself, "Ladybug only sees him as a partner, a friend, nothing more. If I told her who I was, she wouldn't know how to react. On one hand, she likes Adrien, on the other … "

The blond teen tucked his knees against his chest, and Plagg was struck by how similar he looked to the lonely child the black kwami had first found, four years ago. Before he had the Miraculous; before he had met Ladybug. Plagg watched Adrien bury his face in his arms, remembering how this young boy had previously appeared to be. Lost. Sad. Empty.

Everything changed when he transformed into his alter ego, leaping across rooftops, cleansing akuma with his beloved Ladybug. As Chat Noir, the dull look in his eyes made way for joy, for hope.

Plagg was annoying and lazy, sure, but he cared for Adrien, and seeing him like this was a reminder of how he never wanted to find that kind of expression on his face again.

"Hey," the kwami spoke, and his charge tentatively lifted his head.

He flew over and placed his tiny hands on Adrien's carefully, tilting his head to make eye contact.

"Ask her to prom," he told him, and a flicker of something unrecognizable showed in the young boy's face. "If anything, it could just be as friends."

Adrien visibly swallowed, and let out a shaky breath.

"Okay."

xxx

"My Lady, watch out!"

Chat Noir didn't have to worry though, as Ladybug swung her yo-yo at the incoming projectiles, knocking them onto the ground. The black cat sighed in relief, then dodged another arrow sent his way. The two of them met back to back, moving cautiously, watching the Floresque as she twisted her mouth into a wry grin.

"Prom is such a stupid occasion, don't cha think? You shouldn't even waste your time going to one. All the mush and gush, flowers and bouquets, and HAH! All for what? One night of romance?"

She cackled, a trace of bitterness underlying her tone. A local florist had been akumized, and it was lucky Marinette had been around the area. A long line that extended way past the outside of her store had manifested, and the designer felt a pang of pity for the young woman working inside. With promposals and pre-planned dates, it wasn't a surprise her shop was packed with people. The sweet girl had been stood up at prom during her senior year, and the topic had always been a sensitive one. That, plus the amount of people bustling in the small store, looking for flowers to give their prom dates, pushed her over the edge. No one even saw the purple butterfly flutter in.

Floresque's attire made up of dead petals and rotten leaves, wrapping around her body almost like an overly long dress. A vine snaked up her arm, and a shriveled flower crown adorned her head. In her hands, Marinette noticed, was a wooden bow, and a peek was all she needed to see the sharp-tipped roses resting in the quiver slung across her back.

"All of you people can forget about getting flowers," the girl leered, shooting an arrow straight at her store.

The red suit superhero watched in horror as the shop seemed to wilt at the touch of her arrows, crumbling when the deadly rose struck through it.

"Everyone can forget about getting flowers!" she screamed and threw up her arms, casting a flurry of perished leaves and flowers across the city.

Ladybug had witnessed all the beautiful flowers of Paris die, drooping and falling to the ground. With fury, she confronted the akuma victim, waiting for Chat Noir to appear. He did, not five minutes later, and to her exasperation, began pulling idiotic puns as they fought.

"I would leaf my Lady alone, if I were you," Chat Noir had told the akumatized girl when he first appeared.

Floresque glared at the young man clad in a leather cat suit.

"Haha, very funny," she mocked.

"Exactly! See?" Chat Noir turned to Ladybug, grinning, "At least she has a lily bit of humor!"

The two women groaned.

xxx

Adrien's finger hesitated in front of the doorbell, chocolates in his other hand. He had wanted to get a bouquet, but after the akuma fiasco with Floresque, he decided against it.

"Okay, breathe, Adrien," he muttered to himself, "You're only asking the girl of your dreams to prom. As friends! You know, nothing big."

He fidgeted on the doorstep, retracting his hand from the doorbell to fix his collar. He had dressed up a little for the occasion, though he didn't know why. His white dress shirt was tucked in his grey pants, and his shoes were shining back at him. Not a hair was out of place, yet he was terrified. He took another deep breath. Adrien had been standing on the Dupain-Cheng's bakery doorstep for the past ten minutes, working up the nerve to ring the stupid doorbell.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. Yes, I've come to sweep your daughter off her feet and take her to prom. No, we're not together, although I want to be, but she doesn't like the other part of me, so I can't do anything about that. By the way, did I mention your daughter and I are superheroes?"

Adrien sighed at his foolishness. He reached for the doorbell again.

"Okay, you can do this – argh!"

Adrien stumbled back as the door open, and a large man walked out, looking rather surprised at the handsome boy standing out front.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't see you there," the man chuckled, patting his shoulder. "Did you need something?"

Adrien noticed the amused tone in his voice, and realized, to his utter embarrassment, he had been so high-strung over asking Marinette to prom, he failed to register the giant glass window in front of him, and Marinette's parents (he guessed) had been watching him stand there, trying to ring the doorbell for ten minutes. Marinette's probably-father must have taken pity on him and just opened the door, pretending to bump into Adrien.

"I-I uh, hello, Mr. Dupain-Cheng," he stammered, blushing profusely, "I'm Adrien Agreste, your daughter's classmate, and, um, I'm here to talk to M-M-Marinette?"

The grinning man didn't reply, he just opened the door and made a grand wave of his arm, gesturing Adrien to go inside.

Awkwardly, Adrien composed himself and walked in, instantly greeted by a small woman behind the counter.

"Hello, Adrien," the Chinese woman smiled kindly, and the blond boy was instantly warmed by her tone.

Adrien managed a wave and a small nod of his head, "Hello Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, sorry to intrude so suddenly, I know I must have blocked the doorway for quite a while."

Marinette's parents laughed, her father a loud, boisterous one, her mother, a quiet, yet genuine laugh that made the model join in.

"It's alright, there were no customers, and we were both thoroughly amused," teased the happy man, smiling down at the teen. "I'm Tom, and this is my wife, Sabine. Marinette's in her room, you can just go straight up."

The look on their face told Adrien they already knew what he was planning to do.

Thanking them, the boy began to climb the stairs. With each step he took, his initial nervousness came back, until he reached Marinette's door, trembling slightly. He felt Plagg nudge him in his pocket as support, and a small surge of confidence rushed through him. His knuckles knocked on Marinette's door before he had the chance to change his mind. The panel above him opened to see a very surprised Marinette, who screeched a little when she saw Adrien's face looking up at her.

"A-A-Adrien! What are you doing here?" she looked shocked, and very scared as her eyes darted to where Adrien knew his pictures were taped on the wall.

"I needed to talk to you about something, and your parents told me to come right up," the model offered casually, watching her inch a little towards her desk. "Can I come in?"

"Erm, just a sec, let me uh, clean up a bit," Marinette laughed breathlessly, and disappeared before Adrien had a chance to answer.

He smirked as he heard paper being taken off, and a slight curse from Marinette when she tripped over her chair in her haste to remove any trace of his photos. When her face reappeared not thirty seconds later, Adrien had to hide his amusement with a small smile.

"Come on in!" Marinette said, blushing, and Adrien complied.

He stepped into the pink room, looking around, and Marinette regarded him timidly, worried he might not like it, unaware he had already been to her room plenty of times. She lost some of her tension when he smiled and gazed at her pleasantly.

"Your room is nice. It's homey," he told her, and she tilted her head shyly.

"Thanks," she replied, pink tinging her cheeks even more. "What, um … what did you want to talk about?"

Adrien suddenly laughed, hand reaching to rest on the back of his head, and for the first time, Marinette saw that he was nervous. What could be possibly be nervous about?

The young boy stared at the floor sheepishly, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"So, um," Adrien cleared his throat, "we're, uh, we're graduating."

Marinette's heart gave a wrench as his words reminded her of the dreadful countdown towards the end of the year.

"Yeah …?" she said, confused by why he was bringing this up.

"Well, since it's our last year and all, and we've been friends for so long, I felt like maybe we should, uh, well, make the most of it! And um …"

Marinette watched as Adrien flustered, a grin growing on her face, her heart pounding fast. What did he mean by 'make the most of it'? Was he telling her to stay in touch?

"… and so-I-was-wondering-if-you'd-like-to-go-to-prom-with-me." He finished in one breath.

The designer blinked. What? She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Adrien watched apprehensively, contemplating whether that meant a yes or a no.

"I mean," Adrien faltered, "as friends, of course. I know it's a little weird of me bringing it up so suddenly, but we'd known each other for so long so I just – "

"AHHHH!" Marinette yelled, startling Adrien from finishing his haste explanation.

Bewildered, they stared at each other, neither saying a word, until Marinette was alarmingly aware of what he had just asked, and what she had done in response. Almost as if everything clicked into place at once, Marinette's face exploded into a daring shade of red, and all she wanted was for something, anything, to take her away from the humiliating predicament she had just created for herself.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, I just screamed into his face, he probably thinks I'm a freak now, but wait he just ASKED ME TO PROM. OH. MY. GOSH. Marinette, stay calm, stay calm. The designer felt like shrieking again, but she held herself back, having no need to make the situation worse. A glimpse of Adrien's face showed his amusement at her reaction, and the black haired girl buried her face in her hands.

"I'm so sorry," Marinette squeaked, and she was amazed she had even managed to get that out. "I-I don't know what came over me, oh my gosh, you must think I'm so weird, yes, I would love to go to prom with you, as friends, I mean, unless you don't want to anymore, haha," the words spilled out of her with no filter, and she kept going until she felt his warm hand touch her shoulder.

The mortified teen appeared from behind her hands to see Adrien smiling gently at her. He took his hand from her shoulder, and stretched it out in front of him, palms up, facing her. Shaking, she met his gaze.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" Adrien laughed softly. He straightened up, his hand staying where it was; an offer.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," he started, and the girl loved the way he said it, her heart giving the tiniest squeeze before he continued, "Will you go to prom with me?"

Marinette closed her eyes and took a slow, heavy breath. The blond was endlessly patient as she relaxed, and slowly, hesitantly, placed her hand over his. His fingers closed over hers gently, and she gasped a little, but kept her emotions in check.

"Yes," she replied, wondering how much redder she could possibly become.

Adrien's only response was to lift her hand up to his lips, brushing the softest kiss over her knuckles.