Adrien is trying really hard not to be obvious. Honestly.

He's entirely aware of how much effort he's making in constantly telling himself to not look at Marinette. It should be easy to keep his eyes away, since she sits directly behind him in class. However, this knowledge makes it impossible for him to concentrate.

What's worse is that he can feel her staring at him when his back is turned. He thinks it might drive him crazy.

He blinks furiously when a hand waves in front of his face, bringing him back to the present. "Earth to Adrien! Come in, dude."

Adrien smiles sheepishly at Nino, who sits across from him at the picnic table, a sandwich halfway to his mouth. "Sorry, Nino, I was - "

"Being creepy again?" Nino raises an eyebrow as he bites into his lunch.

The superhero tries to make up a better excuse, but his eyes flicker to where Marinette is sitting on the other side of the courtyard with Alya and a couple of the other kids from class, and he hangs his head in defeat. "Maybe?"

"Alya told me you saw Marinette at your fashion gig on Saturday."

Adrien pushes the cubed fruit around its container with his fork. "Yeah, I guess." He's trying really hard to be nonchalant too, but it's not working out so well either. It gives him a headache when he thinks about this whole situation, the strange triangle between him and Marinette and Ladybug. Marinette is warm and real and inviting when she's with Chat Noir, so it absolutely boggles his mind when he'll approach her as Adrien with a Chat-like swing in his step and she turns tail and runs the other way.

"Well, whatever happened between you two must have really freaked Marinette out," Nino continues conversationally as he chews. "She won't tell Alya anything."

A bit of a clever smirk curls at Adrien's mouth as he raises his own eyebrow at his friend. "Alya convinced you to do some digging, huh? What did she bribe you with?"

Nino swallows and then sighs, clearly surprised that Adrien had caught on so quickly. "Concert tickets. Throw me a bone so I have something to tell her," he nearly begs. "That woman is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to Marinette."

Adrien spears a piece of fruit, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It's not that he's trying to keep the whole thing a secret. It's more that Marinette had acted really weird and he was still trying to figure out what he'd done or said wrong, to have made her run away from him in the first place.

And then when he'd chased her, she thought he was Chat Noir. Which, he is of course, but he wasn't wearing a mask at the time. Zero transformation included. A part of him is elated by that - that even without the mask, Marinette felt the truth of him in the dark. It doesn't erase his confusion, though. What does he tell Nino? That she had run away and then kissed him thoroughly enough to make him stupid ten minutes later, while under the impression that he was half of Paris' famous superhero duo?

He's not even sure Nino would believe him if he told the truth. It all sounds dreamlike and fantastical when he puts it that way.

He finds his gaze drawn to Marinette (again) but this time when he looks, their eyes meet and a rush of heat burns him from the inside out, stomach fluttering. Adrien watches with deep satisfaction as her face darkens with color and she turns away, her flailing hands knocking her water bottle off the table and into the grass.

"Adrien."

His attention snaps back to Nino, who sighs again. "Really, dude?"

"Look, nothing happened," Adrien lies with a dismissive laugh that sounds just a bit too carefree to be believable. "I tried to compliment her on her dress and she shot out of the room like I personally set her skirt on fire."

"Well something had to have happened. You keep staring at her like she's got the secret to life."

He thinks that maybe she might. Adrien glances toward Marinette once more and notes that she's studiously ignoring him, though her face is still apple red. He drops his eyes and pops a piece of fruit into his mouth.

"Did you reject her, maybe?" Nino guesses around another mouthful of his sandwich.

Adrien nearly chokes on the melon. "What?!"

"I'm just throwing out possible ideas. I'm trying to read your face."

"Marinette can't stand to be within a ten foot radius of me! There's no way she would confess to anything other than that!" Adrien sighs, remembering the horribly closed off expression she wore on Saturday when he'd tried to talk to her.

Nino stares at him, eyes wide and full of incredulous disbelief, a lull in the conversation. When he replies, he's skeptical. "Dude, c'mon."

The blood rushes to Adrien's face at the expression, quite unable to believe that this is what they're talking about. "You think she likes me?" It doesn't make sense to him; they haven't really ever talked, at least, not to her knowledge. Not as Adrien and Marinette. What she has to know about him is impersonal stuff that everyone else knows, and despite her sunny smiles, she really does seem unusually uneasy around him. For a moment, his heart flutters in panic at the thought that she knows he's Chat Noir, but then again that wouldn't make sense either. Marinette kisses Chat.

And apparently, Adrien, too. He remembers the dark hall on Saturday night, her blazing warmth and the sweetness of her eager mouth. She certainly wouldn't have done that if she'd known that Chat hadn't even been there, technically, would she?

"Are you for real, right now? I thought you knew she was crushing on you." Nino laughs and puts his sandwich down, adjusting the glasses on his face briefly. "Oh man, I know you're socially oblivious, Adrien, but Marinette is so obvious."

Adrien stares at Nino like he's grown two heads, his face getting warmer by the second as his apprehension grows. Is it true? he wonders, awe-struck. Can it really be this easy? He has no references to work with as far as girls go. The only girl he's ever been close to is Chloe, and she's always been so blunt and forward with what she wants from him that it hadn't crossed his mind that Marinette - who is so strong-willed and defiant and beautifully fierce in the face of Chloe's antics - might not be the same way with her feelings. That despite her strength and outspoken leadership in the class, Adrien is her one weakness.

And if it's true that Marinette has a crush on him as Adrien, then that means her entire heart is dedicated solely to him. That both of his halves have managed to capture her attention. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but a very Chat-like grin splits across his face. The only way to confirm this is to confront her about it himself.

He's not sure what he'll do with the information. Somehow, revealing to her that he's Chat Noir seems too sudden. And anyway, he wants her to figure it out. His eyes are drawn to her again, gently tracing over her outline as she makes lively conversation with Alya, throwing her head back to laugh. With this new information, and his tender heart swaying easily in her direction, she almost shimmers in the sun.

::::

Adrien doesn't get a chance to talk to Marinette before school ends, and he thinks its because she's doing her best to avoid him. It's alright, though, because he already has plans to talk to her tonight. Chat Noir will most definitely be paying her a visit. The anticipation of it puts a bounce in his step and butterflies in his stomach.

So under the pretense of doing his homework, he expects to be able to lock his bedroom door and escape out the window after transforming. But as soon as he walks into the front door of his house, he's greeted by the sight of his father standing at the bottom of the stairs, Natalie on his right, her head bowed as she frowns.

Adrien immediately curls in on himself, throwing up his defenses at the hard look of disapproval on Gabriel Agreste's face.

"What's going on?" Adrien asks warily, trying his best not to jump the worst conclusions.

His father remains rigid. "Your behavior at my show was unacceptable."

It had taken place nearly two days ago now, but Adrien bitterly surmises that his father hadn't had the time to confront him about it before now. "I was perfectly behaved, Father."

"Your pre-show etiquette was embarrassing. And during the banquet, you disappeared after offending several of our important guests by brushing them off when they tried to speak with you."

He does remember being rather blunt, but he had been intent on finding Marinette, and even now as his father reprimands him, he can't bring himself to feel apologetic or regretful of the whole thing. After all, the results of his search had ended with her contentedly sandwiched between him and a wall as she whispered his name and stole his breath.

"I wasn't feeling too well," Adrien hedges, wishing that his father could at least find some innate sense of understanding of what it feels like to be a fifteen year old boy thrown into the cutthroat world of high fashion and snobby rich people.

His father's eyes narrow slightly. "Natalie told me about this girl you invited to the show. Were you with her?"

Adrien frowns. Danger! Danger! his mind is screaming at him. "What kind of host would I be if I hadn't been?" His words are carefully chosen, and slightly confrontational on purpose. He's getting really sick of being a tool to boost his father's name and image, and the older he gets, the less he feels that his father sees him as his son instead of some sort of live-in employee.

It's no wonder that his mother left.

Gabriel Agreste stares. "Entertaining a little friend from school is not the same as entertaining our colleagues, Adrien. I need you to remain professional at your next public appearance under my name. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father," Adrien replies stiffly.

His father turns away marginally, to retreat back to his offices to work on whatever he left unfinished to give Adrien this lecture, before glancing over his shoulder at his son. "Our business is important. If you continue to be distracted by schoolmates, I'll have to have you privately tutored again. Are we clear?"

Adrien drops his eyes, heart heavy as he nods. "Yeah." Our business. As if Adrien actually has any say in what goes or not. He clutches his school bag tighter against his shoulder and then bolts up the stairs.

He kicks his bedroom door shut behind him, feeling more angry than hurt by the whole thing. Adrien had worked his butt off to prove to his father that he could balance his work and going to a public school. For months, he'd begged to have the freedom to make friends his own age while studying into the early morning hours to ace all the tests that his tutors could throw at him. He'd worked flawlessly and perfectly at every fashion event whether it be shows or photo shoots.

After nearly a year of breaking his back to prove that he could afford to go to public school, he'd been granted the admission. His father had almost looked proud at the dedication and drive in Adrien's effort to be the most well-mannered prize of a son. Adrien had earned his freedom completely through hard work.

And, apparently, one distracted night is all it takes for that freedom to be stolen away from him.

He sets his bag down on his bed before flopping down, face first into his pillow. It's not fair, he thinks, not fair at all. There's no one on his side through any of this. He knows that Natalie isn't his mother, but he wishes that she could argue on his behalf, just a little bit. It's clear she doesn't completely approve of all of Gabriel's parenting techniques. It's clear that she's used by him just as carelessly as Adrien is himself.

Still, even with the threat of having it all torn away, he wouldn't do anything different if he could go back in time. It had been, undoubtedly, the best fashion show he'd ever been forced to participate in. Probably the only one he actually enjoyed attending after the presentation was done on the catwalk too. And he knows the sole reason for that is because Marinette had been there.

Precious Marinette, who loved to design clothes, who jumped to her friends' defense before her own, who was strong and defiant and brilliant in her own unique ways. Ever since he'd met her as Chat Noir, his curiosity about her had grown from a tiny ember into this flame that is getting out of control. The more he watches her, the more sure he is that she is the very same as his Ladybug.

And despite not having seen Ladybug in over a week now, he doesn't miss her. Why would he, when she's been with him nearly every day since, dressed down into Marinette? A part of him yearns for the reveal, to one-hundred percent prove his suspicions correct, while the other is wary. He doesn't want to ruin what he has with her, even if it is double-sided and strange. Ladybug has warmed up to Chat in recent months, but she'd never let her walls down with him the way Marinette had.

All of this is just so confusing.

"Are you going to feed me or what?"

Adrien groans as a small weight settles on the back of his head. "There's extra cheese in my lunchbox," he mutters into the pillow.

Plagg makes a content sound. "Oh goody. I'll need all the energy I can get if I have to put up with you and Marinette again tonight."

Adrien rolls over, checking his clock on his nightstand. Two hours before the bakery closes for the night, which means he's got to hurry if he wants to talk to her about his revelation from earlier today. He gets the impression that Marinette spends the evenings with her parents, starting with a family dinner, and he doesn't want to ruin that.

"Plagg, I need you to devour that cheese as fast as you can," Adrien declares with a smile in his kwami's direction. "And when we get home, I'll smuggle you the biggest Camembert we've got in the kitchen."

All his frustrated thoughts about Gabriel Agreste vanish as euphoric anticipation starts to build in the pit of his stomach. It doesn't take too long for Plagg to eat, and then Adrien calls for Chat Noir. A smile splits across his face as he shoves his window open and starts sprinting across the roof toward the bakery.

::::

She's watering the plants on her balcony in the twilight air with her spray bottle when he ambushes her.

"Hello, Princess," Chat purrs in Marinette's ear, his lips pressing quickly to her cheek from over her shoulder. She lets out a surprised yelp and spins away from him. In the process, she loses her footing and only Chat's miraculous cat-like reflexes keep her from hitting the floor.

She stares up at him, wide-eyed, as he cradles her, a smirk on his face. "It seems as though I have swept you off your feet," he says smugly, the fairy lights strung along the wall sparkling in his eyes.

Her cheeks redden as she holds up the spritzer and sprays him in the face with water, glaring. Chat laughs, straightening up and righting Marinette on her own feet.

"It'll take more than a little bit of water to curb my bad habits with you," he declares in a voice like silk. It's then that she reads his entire posture. The thrill in his glittering eyes, the languid way he's speaking, that confident, hungry look about him. Her stomach bottoms out.

This cat is on a mission and she's sure that if there has ever been a time to be wary of him, its now.

She means to be assertively clear in her boundaries, but her finger tips the bell at his throat upwards and she raises an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing here, kitty cat?" Her finger slips, gliding over the top of the bell, before she pulls her hand away.

He grins, hopping up to sit on the rail of her balcony. "I'm here to talk about the guy you like."

A blush explodes across her face as she stares at him. "I don't want to talk about him." It makes her heart panic when an image of Chat flickers through her mind before Adrien comes to the forefront of her thoughts.

"That's fine," he says cheerfully, "I'll carry the conversation myself. You don't have to paw-ticipate."

She sprays him with the bottle again and his laughter breaks the night and fills the early summer dusk with even more warmth than before. She watches him as his eyes pin to her, both of them glowing in the sparkling lights a bit. It's painfully obvious how euphoric he is, as though he's absolutely giddy to talk about her crush. Which is extremely suspicious, considering that he knows, as far as she's admitted, that it's not him.

"Go home, Chat." She turns her back to him and carries on watering her plants near the railing.

"In a little bit," he promises slyly, playing with the end of his tail. "First I wanna talk about how cool your crush is."

She pauses, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to figure out what the hell is going on in her partner's brain. None of this is usual.

"You say he's cooler than me. What's cooler than being a superhero that saves Paris? Maybe he's famous? A celebrity crush?" He hums, delighted with himself. Every word out of his mouth puts her even further on edge. "But maybe more than just that. Does he go to your school? Am I getting warm?"

She looks at him from over her shoulder. "He's a model," she mutters, searching his masked expression.

"So you saw him at the fashion show the other night." Her eyes narrow as he smiles innocently at her. "I'll take that as a yes." He swishes his tail back and forth in his hands, entirely too self-satisfied. "The only boy who had been a part of that show and could feasibly be in your school is Adrien Agreste." His voice grows soft. "Am I right?"

Her face burns with confusion and embarrassment, her insides twisting and turning with anxiety. "Chat, what are you doing?" She hears the lump of emotion in her throat as she sets the spray bottle on the table and stares at the counter space before her. She places her hands flat against the surface and leans on it, taking deep breaths.

"What's so special about this guy, Marinette?" His tone is gentle, curious. She hears him slide off the railing and approach her side. "You like that he's a model?"

"No," she murmurs, glad that she's in control of her voice. "I mean, I guess it's an advantage. I get to see his face everywhere."

Chat chuckles at that. She chances a peek to read his expression. He's looking at her with warm anticipation and it gives her a honeyed feeling in the pit of her stomach. A crooked smile pulls at her mouth as she drops her eyes back to the table.

"Adrien. . ." Her words trail off as she tries to find the right way to convey why he's so special to her. "Adrien doesn't know that I watch him. I don't think he knows anything about me at all except that I like to design my own clothes. But I. . .I see that he's lonely, even if he never says so.

"I don't really know his home life, but knowing that his dad is a famous fashion designer, I can only guess that he feels isolated. And even though he has money and fame, he's so kind. His kindness is endless, Chat. He visits and supports dog shelters, and last month he said he was working on starting a new charity for homeless kids in Paris.

"He was homeschooled all his life until this year, but it's made him generous and patient, instead of the other way around. He can somehow stand Chloe, who. . .well, you've met her. And he's so smart! He has really good grades, all while maintaining fluent Chinese, fencing practice and piano lessons."

She smiles again, lost in thought, as she continues to babble. "Honestly, the mystery of him drew me in, I think. Sometimes, I look at him and feel like I've known him for my whole life, even though I can't say a single thing to his face without sounding like an idiot. There's something so. . .familiar about him. I don't know what it is, but I can't help myself!"

Her smile turns wistful. "He's never going to know how I feel about him. He hardly knows that I exist."

There's a lengthy pause and then Chat's gloved hand slowly closes over hers where it rests on the table. A blush heats her face for her honesty, and bravely, she glances at him to read his response.

His bright eyes are soft, his mouth slightly parted as though he's speechless. There's something so unexpectedly tender and breakable about his expression that it draws her toward him. This is probably the strangest conversation she's ever held with anyone. She thought that telling him these things about Adrien might make him. . .well, anything other than soft and gentle, which is what he is now.

"I don't think that's true at all," he murmurs, squeezing her hand.

She flushes. "You sound so sure."

"That's because I am." Thee cool sliver of his ring presses into her as he takes her hand into his, rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles in slow circles.

She stares at him, still trying to understand the point. "What's going through your mind, silly cat?"

"The only thing I can think of at this very moment," he says with a smolder in his voice, "is how much I'd like to kiss you again." Their gazes hold as he caresses her hand. There's something different about the weight of his eyes on her skin. It was real before, real and warm and honest, but it's more than that now. Intimate. Electric.

"Why do you keep asking?" she whispers. Hasn't she been transparently clear by now? That a part of her longs for him, no matter how much she likes another boy? "You already know the answer."

"Your unwavering consent is precious to me, my lady." A shock goes through her at the nickname that rolls off his tongue with such care and familiarity. And certainty. "I want you to be one hundred percent sure about me, when I know your heart belongs to a boy named Adrien, too."

She frowns, reaching up to touch the edges of his mask. His eyes are so bright in the growing darkness of the night. If it weren't for the lights strung up on the wall, she might not be able to see much of him at all. "What about your heart, Chat Noir?"

"My heart is yours," he says gently, dipping toward her.

Marinette's heart lurches, her face suddenly burning again with color. "What about Ladybug?"

"Yours," he repeats in a whisper. "Absolutely and entirely yours."

She kisses him, rocking forward on her toes so that her mouth presses against his. He's in her head and under her skin and his name is the only word on her tongue. He makes a sound of surprise in the back of his throat as she steps toward him and he stumbles, the small of his back pressing into the railing of her balcony.

Marinette throws her arms around his shoulders and his arms wind across her back, effectively eliminating the remaining space between them. Her lips are desperate against his and when she begins to run out of breath, she pulls her face away, burying it in the crook of his neck.

For the first time in her life, someone knows her as both Ladybug and Marinette, and they choose Marinette. Silly, clumsy, forgetful Marinette. Over a superhero that's strong and brave and constantly confident in everything that she does. Marinette tries to slow the pace of her heart but she's a firework. Somehow, she finds her lips moving against his collarbone.

"Who are you, Chat Noir?"

His mouth presses to the top of her head, a smile curling his lips. "I'd tell you but then I'd have to kill you."

She sighs, tightening her arms around his shoulders, reluctant to ever let him be farther away from her than he is now ever again.

"I'm closer than you think, Princess," he murmurs happily, pushing her away at the waist so that he can meet her eyes. She stares up at him, taking in his face. The green of his eyes, the straightness of his nose, the cut of his chin. "You'll figure it out."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "What does that mean?"

He grins cattishly and then kisses her quickly. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get back home before someone realizes I'm gone." Chat slips from her hold and leaps up to stand on the railing, his gaze playful as he looks down at her.

She props her hands on her hips. "You're enjoying this too much, you dumb cat."

"No," he purrs, "I'm enjoying this just the right amount."

Marinette sighs and then smiles, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "Can I ask one more question before you dash away, handsome boy?"

He crouches back down, holding his balance perfectly on the railing. "Of course, my lady."

A shiver crawls deliciously down her spine, and the warmth that floods every inch of her body makes her sure in herself. "Do I know you without the mask?"

His teeth expose in a flash of white, the smile reaching his eyes as he grins. "You'll figure it out," he whispers, and then he's gone, flinging himself off the balcony. She watches as he leaps gracefully over the rooftops until he's disappeared.

"Tikki," Marinette says softly, as her kwami companion creeps out from behind one of the potted plants, "what are the chances that Chat Noir knows I'm Ladybug?"

Tikki smiles as she sits on Marinette's shoulder. "I don't know. What do you think, Marinette?"

Marinette thinks about the way Chat looks at her, about the way he's been pursuing her, the absolute conviction in his voice when he confessed his heart to her just a few minutes ago. And then she considers his behavior around her when she's wearing the mask, and how heart-achingly similar it is. How nothing had changed between them, except the fact that honesty had a place now, as it slowly comes into the light that glows in the spaces of their hearts.

"I think," she whispers, hugging herself, "that the chances are very high."