"Marinette," Professor Fontaine said as they sat in her office. Marinette had to make up lab hours due to the extremely inconvenient akuma attacks during her last few classes. Oh the woes of a young superhero. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
Marinette looked up from her sketchbook. "Sure, professor."
"What is your relationship with Adrien Agreste?"
By the alarmed look on Fontaine's face, it must have been clear Marinette was not prepared to answer such a loaded question.
She thought she'd escaped that name?
Why did Adrien and his beautiful eyes haunt her?
Taking a deep breath, Marinette closed her book.
"We were friends in high school," she put carefully.
Fontaine tilted her head. "Is that all?"
"Why…why do you ask?"
The woman smiled. "I just thought it odd that when you saw each other, you both had such…significant reactions to one another."
Marinette slumped in embarrassment. "You noticed?"
"He looked like he'd seen a ghost, and you all but bolted out of the room. Now if that wasn't strange enough, he followed after you in a mad hurry." She quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't see much of you after that."
Marinette couldn't have blushed any harder.
Oh. My. God.
"It's not like that!" Her hands shot to her face to mask her horror. "No. Nothing like that...We were in the same friend group as…as Alya Césaire." Her hands fell to her lap, where her nails dug crescents into her palm. "Adrien left after her death, and we haven't seen each other since. That's all."
Fontaine's expression dwindled to horror, then shame. "Marinette, I'm so sorry. That was insensitive of me to even presume—"
"No. It's alright," Marinette said quickly, realizing how morbid a turn the conversation had taken. It was so sad Alya's name carried such a terrible connotation, when once it had been a warm hand on her shoulder, a buckle of laughter in the wind. "Actually, I used to have a pretty enormous crush on him. You weren't too far off."
"Well," the professor said, clearing her throat, though smiling to herself. "There's a charity ball Friday, and he's going to be there if you two have any more catching up to do."
Marinette forced herself to rationalize.
She had sworn off Chat as someone she couldn't salvage, someone she surely couldn't become friends with again. She'd promised Nino she would forget about him altogether.
So far, she'd been doing well.
"I…probably shouldn't," she said at last.
Fontaine tried to hide her disappointment, tucking a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. "That's fine. I thought I would ask. I was hoping someone could model one of my works."
Marinette's eyes snapped wide. "You…wanted me to wear something you've designed?" she sputtered.
Was this an alternate timeline? When had her luck turned back around?
Fontaine quirked an eyebrow. "You were actually the inspiration for the piece."
"Shut. Up."
Marinette slapped her hand over her mouth.
"I mean—"
Fontaine's laughter echoed through the office. Her eyes crinkled. "It's okay, Marinette. I understand. It's too bad, but you're a busy girl, and honestly, if I keep this up, the staff is bound to notice my favoritism."
Marinette pooched her lips, unable to suppress it.
"Can...can I see it?" she burst.
Having expected Marinette to cave, Fontaine rummaged through a stack of papers and passed the portfolio over the table.
Marinette's smile disappeared.
"S-spots?"
Something cold pestered in Marinette's stomach, but if faded at the bright light in her teacher's eyes.
She couldn't know. That was impossible.
It was just a coincidence.
"Spots," she confirmed. "You have this…bubbly aura, Mari. I had to capture it. And I would be honored if you would wear it. Someone my age can't pull it off. And it's not like I can hire models to walk the line for me…"
Marinette grinned. "I would love to, professor."
Fontaine beamed. "It's Lilian to you, Marinette. Just Lilian."
OoO
Adrien didn't know what was wrong with his brain.
Of all the beautiful, wealthy, admirable people in the crowd, his eyes flew to Marinette's figure, almost immediately. And worst of all, they wouldn't leave her.
Yeah, sure, she looked amazing in that gold-speckled dress with her hair up. Yeah, she was a familiar face in a crowd of mere acquaintances. But that gave him no right to follow her with his eyes, for his feet to shuffle toward her, like gravity was pulling him near her, like the tide was pulling him out to sea.
She knew who he was, what he'd done.
Why did she come here, knowing he'd attend?
If he were her, he'd get as far away from Paris as possible—move to the Netherlands—to avoid seeing his face on every billboard and magazine.
Maybe she doesn't actually hate you, that irrational side of his brain put forth. Maybe, like Ladybug, she is merely angry at you for leaving her to wallow alone.
But that was crazy.
Ladybug was different. She was his partner. She wasn't personally affected by his crime. She was all-forgiving. She had to be. It's what separated her from a vigilante.
Marinette...she was forgiving too. And kind, and sweet, and brave.
But who could forgive the man who stole from her, a happy life?
OoO
Marinette was busy dissecting the snack table—where else would she be, honestly?—when she heard the voice, clear and crisp behind her.
"I really don't have much more to say on the matter, thank you."
Adrien.
Oh no. Oh no.
OH NO.
Marinette kept her back to the voice, staring at the hors d'oeuvres in wild panic.
"Then what of the future of this company, monsieur?"
"I believe that is a question better suited for my father. If you'll just excuse me..."
Ugh. He sounded so mechanical. So rehearsed.
Where was Chat's dorky charisma?
Marinette was just about to make a run for it when the sound of a thousand euro coins crashed against the floor behind her.
The hell? Had someone just murdered a piggy bank?
Marinette jerked around, hand instinctively closing around one of her earrings.
"All these snobs. All these privileged Parisians," a man seethed from the center of the ballroom. Marinette never thought she'd be happy to see an akuma. "What do you know of charity? What do you know of the needs of those who wallow below you?"
Marinette began creeping around the side of the table.
Slowly…slowly…
"People like us can never bridge the wage gap, and yet here you are, basking in luxury…for charity."
The man scoffed, pointing his diamond-emblazoned cane to the crowd.
"Why don't you help the city by donating your lives?"
He flicked the cane, and the front row of onlookers burst into piles of money.
Marinette tore for the cover of the kitchen, but a warm, calloused hand snagged her wrist, locking her in place.
Adrien's wide, haunted eyes kept her from wrenching away.
"Adrien—"
"Come on."
He yanked her toward the back of the great hall.
She needed to transform. Where was he taking her?! "Wait, I have to—"
He didn't listen. He pulled her through the river of people and unfortunate mounds of coins. They cut a sharp left for the exit, and Adrien ushered them through and slammed the door.
They were not outside. They were in a storage closet.
Marinette was stuck in fucking a closet with the retired Chat Noir.
Nino would never believe this.
She stared at Adrien, then at his hand, still taught around her forearm.
He followed her gaze and released her, stepping back quickly, bumping into the mop.
He looked terrified.
Because he was, she realized, softening. He thought she hated him. And maybe she should. But she didn't. She probably couldn't.
"Adrien…" she began.
"Sorry," he said thickly. "I didn't mean to drag you in here against your will. I just panicked." His green eyes flitted away. "I couldn't see you get hurt." Or worse, was left unsaid.
She folded out the creases in her dress, smiling sadly. "I know."
He dared to look at her again, and his mouth parted at her sad, misty eyes.
Could he see Ladybug's desperation? Could he see that she missed him?
Because no matter what she told herself, she did.
She missed Adrien's rare little smiles. She missed Chat's cheeky grin. She missed Adrien's ability to see the good in everyone, and Chat's attempt to save as many lives as he could.
And in that moment, he almost seemed to understand.
Something jingled in her hand purse, like an alarm for her to come crashing back to reality.
Tikki.
Right.
"Adrien, I have to get out of here."
He shook his head. "We should wait until Ladybug shows."
Marinette refrained from rolling her eyes. She could hear the screams of civilians outside. Wails of terror. The sound of money bouncing off tile.
Gazing up at Adrien's shadowed face, she wondered how he could just tune out the cries of his people. How could he ignore those who needed him? Parisians? Ladybug? Nino?
He wore a blindfold, but he wasn't deaf to the terror. He could hear her calling for him—and he shut her out.
Anger bubbled in her throat, fused with impatience and frustration. "I can't. I'm sorry, Adrien. You need to let me out."
He moved to the left, blocking her exit. "No. It's dangerous. If something happened—"
"I'll be fine!"
"Mari, you could get hurt—"
Something in her snapped. "Since when do you care?"
She didn't mean to say that, to say anything of the sort—but the reaction was instantaneous, and irrevocable. His face broke, and he stared at her in guilty horror.
She breathed shakily, heart pounding as she watched his hope deteriorate.
"I…just…" He didn't finish. Instead he closed his eyes and moved out of her way.
Berating the side of her that wished to fix this, she shoved past him and out the door.
OoO
Shell de Fer was already at the scene, repelling the bursts of monetary energy with his shield. He spotted her running toward him in his peripheral.
"Ladybug!" he sighed, relief washing over him. "It's the cane!"
After everything, a part of her still yearned for Chat's presence, for a shitty pun about inflation or Euros. She wanted to laugh with him. She wanted to scold him for flirting. She wanted to bump his fist one last time and cherish it.
No. Stop it. Stop thinking of him.
She had Nino now. She loved Nino like a brother. She wouldn't trade him for anything.
She wouldn't.
"Got it."
On the count, Shell took off, barreling straight for the akuma victim, impervious to the forces against his shield. The Patron's face transformed into sheer terror, and then he was flying backwards, catapulted by Shell's strength.
Ladybug used his state of disorientation as an advantage, and tossed her yo-yo to snatch the weapon out of his hand. And when she restored the currency back to the elite of Paris, Lila came with it.
The woman pooched her lips, looking rather miffed at having been a victim to the man's assault. Her eyes found Ladybug, and they narrowed with hatred and disdain.
Wow.
Someone could sure hold a grudge.
Adrien appeared from the rear of the room, sweeping past Ladybug as though she didn't exist. He darted for Lila, helping her to her feet, holding her steady as the cameras flashed and the crowd reconvened.
Ladybug looked away.
I don't give a single fuck about Chat Noir, she told herself.
But the lie tasted bitter on her tongue.
Sorry it's kind of short! I've been having the worst case of writer's block. I'm writing like four other stories, + a Marichat fic, and I'm wearing myself a little thin.