After months of convincing their families-surprisingly it had been his mom that made most of the fuss-he and Marinette were finally looking for apartments.

For the first few years of university, they'd lived with roommates-Marinette with Alya, of course, and Adrien had found some guys from the physics department to room with. His father had been appalled at having so many boys sharing a two room apartment, and Adrien realized again that as hard as his father had worked to build his business and make a name for himself, he grew up in as much privilege as he had given Adrien. His mother, on the other hand, had just smirked, and told Adrien that she was proud of him. It would be a good experience.

They helped him move in, and Adrien was happy again that he'd chosen a university only a metro ride away. He was still reeling from having his mother back, and very aware of how quickly everything could change. While he was sometimes envious of Nino's nomadic life spinning at a different club every night, he was completely content with his homebody lifestyle. It was just an added bonus that Marinette was going to the same university for her degree in Fine Arts and International Business Administration.

They spent the first two years throwing themselves into their studies. Exhausted at the end of every night, they still met at least three times a week to patrol and were on demand if Paris needed them. While Mayor Bourgeois had since moved on and let a new administration take over, he still acted as a mediator between the masked heros of Paris and the government. Much subtler than a bat signal, he had given each of them a pager that could be used by the current mayor if they needed Ladybug and Chat Noir. Adrien had to laugh remembering when they had gotten it the last year of lycée, how Chloé had looked at it disdainfully and completely rejected the idea.

"It doesn't go with my outfit; besides what year is it? 1985?"

Chloé had never really had a public presence anyway. She surprisingly preferred to help only when necessary and pick up extra patrols instead. Paris never really got over the mystery of who the yellow-and-black-clad vigilante was-and some were a little too aggressive in their desperation to know-but Chloé preferred the anonymity.

Between class, his advanced tract, Marinette's double major, and their miraculous duties, he and Marinette usually ended up passing out in whoever's bed was closest most of the time anyway. Adrien always got congratulatory pats on the backs from his roommates when Marinette emerged with him in the morning, which he ignored and tried not to blush at, and Alya knew what was really going on, more times than not she was just as exhausted as they were.

So, with Alya going abroad for junior year, Adrien had just popped the question. Not that question...at least not yet… but he decided to ask Marinette to move in with him.

It was finals season, and he was hanging at Alya and Marinette's apartment during a mutual few days break they had. He was nervous and he'd decided to phrase it as a matter of practicality, citing how much more convenient it would be for both of them. He cringed remembering the path to now...

"We wouldn't have to hide from any roommates, and you wouldn't have to worry about finding a random person and potentially getting a psycho as a roommate while Alya's gone." She just stared at him. "I mean, you've had it easy the last two years. No one nosing around your stuff, having to keep up certain lies, explain your abrupt absences…" She had raised her eyebrow now.

"So, you're asking me to move in with you, my boyfriend of five years, for...practical reasons?" She looked at him dubiously, her eyes narrowed in what Adrien realized was annoyance.

"Yeah, I mean," he reached up and rubbed the back of his head nervously. "That's not the only reason? I mean, I love you?" He tried and then added when she still looked annoyed. "Your hair looks really pretty today."

The hint of a smile played at the edge of her lips, but he was surprised to see an unexpected hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Tell you what, Kitty. You figure that out, and then we'll talk. Okay?" She patted his knee and got up to walk towards her kitchen. He sat there, stunned. How had that gone so opposite to what he'd imagined? They had talked about moving in together before. Sure, it was sooner than they'd planned, but he thought it had basically already been agreed upon.

Alya walked out then, an amused look on her face. She clearly had overheard the conversation from her room. He turned and looked at her, confusion evident in his furrowed brows and slack jaw.

"Aww, sunshine," she sat next to him and patted his back. She was clearly suppressing her laughter, which was thoughtful of her, but he still found it annoying. What sort of magical girl power did she possess that allowed to to understand what the hell had just happened? He was clueless.

"Marshmallow," she used the pet name for him that she'd coined about two years earlier, claiming it represented his mushiness and how he was too pure for this world. Stupid might be a better word for it, he thought, still bewildered.

"I was just trying to be practical about it," he muttered.

"Yes, and it was very practical, but since when does Adrien Agreste, master of grand gestures and cheesy romance, choose to ask his beloved girlfriend of five years to move in with him, a huge life event for the two of you and milestone for your relationship, through a pragmatic statement of how convenient it would be?" She looked at him kindly, but also with a hint of How stupid can you be?

"Ah, shit," he dropped his head into his hands. She was right. Of course, Alya was usually right. He'd just been so worried about getting their parents to agree-they were after all still footing the bill-that he'd created a completely rational argument about why they should live together. So wrapped up in that, and secure with the knowledge that this was something he and Marinette had discussed at length and both wanted, he completely ignored the obvious. He loved doing little romantic things for Marinette. He knew she didn't really care about gifts and material displays of affection, so he used big gestures and planned adventures for them. He did things like set up cheesy moonlit picnics on rooftops and met her randomly to walk with her between classes. After she had drunkenly admitted to him one night that she secretly loved his Chat puns, he even amped up his pun game. He loved celebrating seemingly meaningless anniversaries: their 23rd month anniversary, the year anniversary of the first time they went ice skating together, 3 years since they went to prom together, 4 years since she kissed him for the first time... All his days of the year were attached to them.

He got up and walked after her into the kitchen. She was making her comfort food, hot chocolate, and looked over her shoulder at him. She smiled sadly at him. Moving the pan off the stove, she poured three glasses. Setting Alya's on the pass-through from the kitchen to the living room, Alya quickly grabbed it and disappeared back into her room, leaving him to somehow fix this. Marinette turned to start putting things away, but he put his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. Resting his chin on her shoulder, she sighed, relaxing into him and rubbing his forearm.

"Bugaboo, I'm sorry."

"No, no. You're right. It does make sense. It's very...practical." she said the last word a bit forlornly.

"But…" he egged on.

"But," she finally continued, "I guess I just… didn't expect you to ask like that. Look, I know we've been together for a while and I don't expect grand gestures each day. You don't have to continually woo me-"

"Absolutely, I do," he cut her off and spun her around so they were facing. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I want to woo you every day of your life. You should be woo-zy with all the woo. You deserve nothing less." She smiled at him warmly.

"I know it seems silly, and I'm sorry I reacted like that, but...It's just kinda a big deal to me, and you usually...well, you're usually over the top with big life events, so it just...when you didn't act like it was a big deal...it seemed like…like maybe you didn't think it was a big deal and that maybe you thought...I would just be a roommate to you." She had looked down, focusing on the center of his chest, but suddenly looked up, her eyes fierce. "And I will not be your roommate, Adrien Agreste. If you're bored of us, and you just don't know how to tell me, because it's complicated and I guess it might seem like you're stuck with me no matter what because of the miraculous-"

"NO! God, no. Never." He looked down at this girl he'd watched become a woman, so assured of herself and what she wanted in life. He still got glimpses of the insecure girl every once in awhile, like right now, but he had determined a long time ago to never be a cause of that uncertainty. Clearly, he'd failed today. "I absolutely do not think of you as just a roommate. Please, never doubt how much I love you. Please?" She just nodded, and leaned up to kiss him.

He cradled her head like something precious, because it was, before he pulled back.

"I demand a do-over!" He announced formally.

"Oh?" The left side of her mouth tilted up in a smile. "Do you now?"

"Just you wait, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng. You will be thoroughly swept off your feet. Feet." He pointed to her. "Swept." He made an over the top sweeping motion with his arm, and then turned to pour his hot chocolate into a travel mug.

"Where are you going?"

He turned back and looked at her seriously.

"I have plans to make." He stated in a dramatic voice and then turned and walked out the door. Her giggles followed him down the hall, and he couldn't stop the grin that spread over his face, his day instantly better at the sound of her laugh.

On the day of her last final of the year, Marinette was exhausted. She had grand plans to walk in her half-dead state directly to her bed where she would dramatically flop. Beds were meant for flopping. Beds were good. Flopping was good.

She was rubbing her palm as she stared ahead, not really looking where she was going. Art finals were ridiculous. She had to take some beginner drawing classes, just as prerequisites that she'd been putting off, for the fashion courses she was really interested in, and while the main portion of the final was a portfolio they'd prepared the entire year, the in-class final was 'drawing for accuracy'. Many of the art students grumbled about how stifling it was to create under pressure, but Marinette didn't mind. She'd made plenty of artistic renderings of her designs, but she always made one with precise measurements and details too. She could be precise and draw exactly what something was, no personal impression, when she needed to. As for doing it under pressure, Marinette rolled her eyes. Some of her classmates were geniuses, and crazy talented in a way she couldn't imagine, but the amount of times she'd had to create under pressure was laughable. Piece of cake. She was procrastinator extraordinaire. She thrived under pressure.

Now fully emerged from the serene focus she'd descended into during the final, she realized her hand was killing her. She'd been gripping that charcoal a little too tightly, apparently. She turned around the corner and down an alley that was a shortcut to her apartment when suddenly a black shadow fell over her and someone gripped her around the waist. Before she could react, her feet left the ground and she started to claw at the arm around her waist.

"Tikki-" she started to yell when she noticed the leather that covered the arm holding her. I know this leather, and then a deep chuckle from behind her confirmed her suspicions.

"Chat!" She smacked at his arm. "I was about to kick your ass!"

"Lucky for me you stopped then." She could vividly imagine the smirk on his face and twinkle in his eyes. She sighed, and relaxed into his embrace, as her dropped onto the roof to re-position her before they were off together, leaving her no chance to transform.

"Chat, put me down so I can transform and you don't have to hold me!" she shouted in his ear through the roaring wind.

"Holding you is the whole point, Purr-incess." He breathed into her ear quietly, but she heard every word clearly. She looked at him, and he just winked before turning his attention back to where he was going.

The next time he was on a solid surface and not vault jumping, she transferred to his back and held on tightly. He was up to something, so she'd play along. She kissed his neck and nestled her chin into the crook of his shoulder, looking past it and trying to guess their destination. He reached up and grabbed one of her hand, kissing her palm in the way he knew she loved before securing her around him more tightly and vaulting off again.

He bounced and flipped over the city making her giggle by squealing every time they were freefalling for a moment. She was never worried though, he would never let her go.

Finally, after nearly a half hour, they arrived, breathless and windblown in a gated greenspace. All her past weariness had drained away, and she felt exhilarated by the cool night air and the crazy cat by her side. She looked around for the first time and gasped. They'd descended into another realm and were enveloped on all sides by a magical grotto. A wall of red roses surrounded them growing up a tall wrought iron face and protecting them from the world. Massive willows and beech trees created a canopy over their heads and a maze of freesia, orange blossoms and lilacs dotted the slightly overgrown grass below their feet. There were absolutely no lights, and the only luminescence came from the moon that shone above them.

"Kitty," she breathed out, turning to him. "I've never seen anything so beautiful."

"Now that you're here, neither have I."

Such a cheese ball, she rolled her eyes, but grabbed him anyway. Her fingers digging into the supple leather covering his chest, she pulled him down into a passionate kiss. One arm encircled her, lifting her feet slightly off the ground, while the other dug into her hair, completely dislodging the bun she'd hastily thrown it up into earlier. She reached to link her arms around his neck, when she felt something brush her fingers. She opened her eyes and saw his tail swishing rapidly behind him. She pulled back and couldn't help but laugh.

"Mon chaton," she giggled, pushing some wayward hair back from his face. "I should kiss you transformed more often." She winked at him and he just wiggled his eyebrows, not at all embarrassed. She felt his tail wrap around her waist and pull her closer. She raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged innocently kissing her again before lifting her bridal style and walking around a particularly large tree at the center of the grotto.

On the other side lay a tartan blanket and a small basket next to a small patch of daisies.

"Aw, my favorite!" he set her down on the blanket and she leaned over to smell the simple flower. She noticed that the ground was freshly turned under them and she turned back to Chat.

"I wanted to leave a piece of us in the garden."

She looked at him, amazed that she could possibly love him more than she already did.

"Where are we?" She glanced around at their mythical surroundings.

"It's the private garden attached to grandparent's city home," He sat behind her against the tree and she curled up between his legs and leaned back against his chest . "It's technically my dad's now, and to be honest I haven't been here since I was a kid, but...I thought you'd like it."

"It's magical," she breathed out, running her fingers through the grass.

"Then you fit right in." He leaned down and rested his cheek against the top of her head. "You can actually just see the house through the trees right there," he pointed to her left and she noticed the gleam of windows. The grotto itself wasn't huge, but it was cozy by the cluster of imposing trees. "We're just on the edge of the city," he continued.

"It's beautiful. I love it, really, Kitty. Thank you for sharing it with me." She pulled his arms tighter around her.

"I do want to share it with you," his voice took on a deeper tone. "I want to live here with you someday. Having morning coffee in the front room, playing with our kids in the yard. We can put a tire swing right there," he pointed up to a very specific branch in the willow tree. "I want to lay for days with you on the rooftop balcony, and grow old listening to you boss me around in the kitchen. But first," he lifted his head and she rotated in his lap to look at him, "I want to get a tiny studio apartment with you on campus. It'll probably be horrible with a nasty landlord and leaky windows, but it'll be ours. You'll be there and it'll be home." He took a breath. "Will you move in with me, Marinette."

"You are my home, Adrien. I'll go anywhere as long as it's with you."

He looked over at Marinette now, her steps echoing in the empty apartment as she sized up the space with her designer's eye. No, it hadn't exactly gone as planned, but they'd made it here. And since when did their life take the easy path?