hook, line, and sinker


ii.

The first time Adrien sees Marinette, she trips over her own feet and spills her belongings all over the ground. He can't deny the snicker that bubbles in his chest, but he rushes to help her.

He introduces himself and she stutters her way through her name, her eyes darting restlessly from his face to the sky to their surroundings (but she doesn't ask for his autograph). He feels discouraged, thinking he's made her uncomfortable, and quickly excuses himself.

It takes a long, long time for Marinette to relax around him and this fact always makes him doubt himself. Did he do something offensive to her? Why is she able to have a conversation with everyone except him (and that includes the ever-frustrating Chloe)?

Because how can he not notice her kindness and her intelligence, her initiative and creativity? She is fair and brave and confident—except around him. And he could never figure out why. And if she is all of those wonderful things, what does it say about him that she can't treat him like everyone else?

So when she approaches him of her own accord one rainy afternoon, offering her umbrella and then her time, he is pleasantly surprised. He had an exhausting weekend—physically and emotionally—and her presence is soothing. And he is so happy, so relieved that she finally feels comfortable enough around him to open up and be his friend.

They begin to hang out with Alya and Nino after school and on the weekends, and he confirms that she is sweet and endearing and clumsy in the cutest way. She burrows under his skin and into his mind with astonishing speed and ease and sometimes, even the sight of Ladybug can't push Marinette out of his thoughts. Their friendship is simple and familiar and perfect and right and—

And he really should have known.


© Copyright 2016 by The Siege