When Marinette wakes up the next morning, her head feels lighter.
In fact, her entire body feels as if she's floating on a cloud. She opens her eyes and is greeted by a golden beam of winter sunlight coming in through a window — a rarity in mid-December Paris.
She smiles. Sighs. Realizes that she can breathe through her nose, and takes as big of a breath as her lungs can hold until she feels like she might burst.
Tikki still snores softly on the edge of her pillow, so Marinette is careful not to wake her as she shoves the covers off of her legs and sits up to stretch.
She checks the clock: 10:00 AM. She would be in biology right now, with Alya and Nino and Adrien.
Adrien.
She blinks, suddenly remembering last night's visit from Chat Noir and how she at least sort of revealed her crush on Adrien. She wonders, briefly, if the whole thing was some elaborate dream. After all, there's no sign that anything in her room is amiss —
— except for the fact that her trap door is just slightly ajar.
She groans. "Oh, boy."
Tikki stirs from her sleep, blinking sleepily. "Marinette? What's wrong?"
"Adrien crushes about my knows Chat Noir. I mean —" she takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "Chat Noir knows about my crush on Adrien."
Tikki smiles — then frowns. Then, she giggles.
"Why are you laughing? You're supposed to commiserate with me!" Marinette protests, putting her hands on her hips.
"Sorry, Marinette," her kwami says through her giggles. "It's just funny."
Marinette frowns. "It's not funny. I probably shouldn't have told him, right?"
Tikki shakes her head. "Probably not. But I bet things are about to get interesting around here."
"Jeez. You don't think Chat would tell Adrien…do you?"
"I don't know, Marinette," Tikki says, still giggling. "I wouldn't put it past him."
"Come on Tikki, be serious!" She grabs a pillow and shoves it against her stomach. "Well, my life is over."
Tikki stops giggling, so the room is quiet for a moment. She happens to have picked up her big cat pillow. The face of the cat stares at her. A tiny smile wiggles its way onto her lips.
"Actually, Chat Noir was pretty nice to me last night, wasn't he?" she comments casually.
Tikki moves to sit on the cat pillow so that she's almost eye-level with Marinette. "He was. Ever since the Glaciator incident, he's been showing a more sensitive side."
She nods. "Yeah. I really had no idea he could be —"
"But Marinette, I —" Tikki cuts in, and then stops abruptly, as if having second thoughts about what she's about to say.
She looks down at her Kwami, surprised at the little interruption. "What's up?"
With a small sigh, Tikki says rather slowly, "You have to be careful, okay? Night visits from Chat Noir can't become a regular thing. Your identities must stay a secret, and if you learn too much about each other —"
"I know, Tikki," she says, bopping her Kwami on the nose with her pointer finger. "Don't worry. It won't happen again. I'll be sure to keep the trap door closed from now on."
Tikki smiles. "Great. You're the best, Marinette."
Marinette wants to respond, but when she looks across the room and catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she stops. Her hair is terribly ruffled from Chat's antics the previous night. Despite her promise to Tikki, she can't help a tiny bit of disappointment when she realizes that they probably won't be able to just relax and be teenagers — not superheroes — like that again anytime soon.
Tikki flies toward the center of the loft and spins in a circle, pulling Marinette from her thoughts. "So! What should we do with our day off?"
Marinette smiles. "Other than wait to somehow miraculously find out what's happening with Adrien and the meeting with his Dad?" She looks around the room. "Actually…I do have a small idea. How do you feel about some sewing?"
Tikki looks at her with puppy eyes. "Can we listen to the new Laura Nightingale album?"
"Of course!" She trudges down the staircase from her bed-loft to pull up the digital album on her computer. "No sick day would be complete without Laura Nightingale."
Adrien can't focus.
He keeps staring at the empty seat in front of him, the one where Marinette usually sits. It's empty — she's at home sick, as she said she would be — and yet he still stares, wishing, for whatever reason, she would magically show up.
Nino elbows him in the ribs, shaking him from his thoughts. He tilts his head toward his friend, wondering why he wanted his attention, and then he hears from the front of the classroom:
"Adrien? Did you hear me?"
Ms. Bustier is staring at him, her expression almost concerned.
"Uh…no," he says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Ms. Bustier. Can you repeat the question?"
"I asked whether you think that Benedick is in love with Beatrice before the events of Act 3," she explains, her voice clearer and slower than usual, probably in an attempt to help him understand her question.
Adrien appreciates the gesture, but it's lost on his scattered brain. "Oh," is all he says. He sucks in a breath, trying to formulate an opinion after paying attention to almost none of the discussion thus far. "I think…I don't know. He's definitely falling for her, though."
Alya raises her hand.
Ms. Bustier nods toward her. "Yes, Alya?"
"I think," Alya starts, "that they've been in love since way before the play started. They just don't know it yet, or they won't acknowledge it."
Ms. Bustier hums in the way that she does when she secretly agrees with a student. "That's an interesting idea."
But Adrien raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "But Benedick and Beatrice can't even have a normal conversation when the play starts, right? And how can you not know you're in love with someone?" He crosses his arms over his chest. "Isn't love a feeling that's, you know, pretty recognizable?"
Alya shrugs. "Who knows. Maybe Benedick's never been in love before, so it's harder for him to identify the feeling." She pauses, pushing her glasses up slightly on her nose. With biting tacitness, she adds, "Besides, I think sometimes people who are in love deny their feelings because it's easier than facing the truth."
Ms. Bustier smiles. "A very astute observation, Alya. Well done."
The bell moves to pack up their things — except for Adrien. He's stuck, still staring at Marinette's seat.
"Don't forget to read Act 4 for homework!" Ms. Bustier calls over the scramble of students heading toward the door of the classroom.
Vaguely, in the background, he hears Alya ask, "You guys wanna go to my house for lunch?"
Nino mumbles a quick response to her that Adrien can't hear. With a resigned sigh, he finally breaks eye contact with Marinette's chair, and instead gets out of his chair to start packing his books into his bag.
A few seconds pass, and Adrien looks up to realize Alya has left the classroom, but Nino is still there, watching him.
"Yo, dude," he says, grasping Adrien's shoulder. The gesture brings Adrien back to earth just a little bit. "You alright?"
Adrien manages a half-smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."
He glances at Marinette's empty chair again, and then looks up at Ms. Bustier, who is gathering her things and preparing to leave the classroom.
As if reading his thoughts, Nino pipes up, "We'll just be a sec, Ms. Bustier."
She nods. "No problem, boys." With a knowing sparkle in her eyes, she asks, "Should I close the door?"
Adrien looks at the desk, embarrassed but also grateful for her subtlety, "Uh, yeah. Thanks."
They give her a moment to leave, but after the door closes, Nino gives him a good-natured punch to the arm.
"Come on, man," Nino says, his eyes wide with compassion. "You know you can always talk to me. We're best friends. Is your dad giving you trouble again?"
Adrien sighs. "No — thankfully. For once, it's not that."
"Then what's up?"
Adrien grips the edge of their shared desk, and lets out a long sigh. Then, he looks at Nino.
"I know this sounds crazy, but," he begins, an air of caution in his tone, "I think Marinette likes me."
Nino's expression immediately drops. He swings an arm up to rub his neck apprehensively. "Marinette? Likes you? Ha-ha, I mean, why d'ya think that, dude?"
Adrien eyes his friend suspiciously. Normally he would never accuse Nino of lying, but the signs are there: his ears are red at the tips, he's stammering, and the way he's rubbing his neck would suggest —
"Nino, have you known this entire time?" he asks, somewhere between disbelieving and a little upset.
"Dude, I don't know w-what you're talking about —"
"That's why you told me to take Marinette to the Winter Formal," he says, realizing the words' truth as he says them. He smacks his own forehead and lets out a little groan. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Nino sighs. "Listen, dude, you're my best friend, but Alya's my girl, and Marinette's her girl, and I couldn't just give up my girl's girl's secret like that."
Adrien raises his eyebrows. "You mean you and Alya both knew this was happening, and neither of you told me?"
Nino doesn't respond — but his silence is all Adrien needs to hear. He looks back down at the desk, feeling lost. Not only does Marinette indeed have a crush on him, but it seems he's the last one to find out, too.
"Marinette must think I'm a jerk," he laments, still not looking at Nino. "I mean, how could I have been so stupid? This whole time I thought she was weird around me because of the umbrella incident, but really it's just that…" he trails off, at a loss.
"Well, first of all, Marinette is the last person on this planet who would think you're a jerk." Nino clasps Adrien's shoulder. "And second, this isn't a bad thing, alright? Like, Marinette's really nice, and smart, and pretty."
"Yeah, she's all of those things," Adrien agrees. "And she's super creative, and funny, and she cares about everyone —"
Nino brightens. "So what's not to like, dude?"
Adrien runs both hands through his hair and lets out a quick, frustrated breath. "Because I love Ladybug. You know that."
A pause. Nino takes his hand off his shoulder.
"Dude," he says, softly, "Ladybug's, like, a superhero. You can't take her to Winter Formal."
Adrien grips the chair in front of him tightly, not meeting Nino's gaze. "I know. But sometimes…"
He trails off again. He can feel the warmth rushing to his cheeks before he even manages to get the words out.
"Sometimes…?" Nino prompts.
He sighs, gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles turn white. "Sometimes, I think Ladybug is, like…my soulmate."
A long silence stretches between them. Adrien can feel Nino's gaze, but he can't bear to meet it.
After a while, Nino asks, "So…I take it you don't like Marinette?"
"No," he responds shortly — then, "Well, yes, of course. As a friend."
Nino scoffs. "As a friend. Right."
Adrien feels a surprising flash of frustration. He snaps his gaze toward Nino. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Nino shrugs, looking away. "I dunno. I just…"
He trails off. Now Adrien looks at him, but Nino won't meet his gaze.
"You just what?" he presses.
Nino grabs his bag up from off the floor. "I just think that…that you're kinda blinded by your love for Ladybug, dude."
"Blinded?" he questions. "Nino, I'm not blind. It's just that Ladybug is perfect."
Nino sighs, extending one of his hands pointedly. "See? That's what I'm talking about." He slings his bag around his shoulder and starts to walk away. But then, rather abruptly, he turns back to Adrien. "I'm just saying that maybe if you weren't so infatuated with Ladybug, you wouldn't be blind to what's right in front of you, dude."
"I'm not infatuated," Adrien protests, but —
"Dude, you don't even know who she really is."
Nino meets his gaze. Adrien feels his heart pumping in his chest. He's never been angry with Nino before, and he doesn't particularly want to start now. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm down.
"Listen, bro," Nino starts. He must be feeling the same way, because his voice is cooler, more collected. "If you don't like Marinette like that, maybe you shouldn't bring her to Winter Formal after all. You don't wanna lead her on."
Adrien doesn't respond. He just looks at Marinette's empty seat again. He wonders if she's feeling any better. He'd give anything to escape this room and rewind to last night, when they were laughing and happy, and he could hide behind a mask.
"I gotta meet Alya for lunch," Nino says, interrupting his thoughts. After a slight hesitation, he adds, "We cool?"
Adrien sighs — but a small smile sneaks its way onto his features. At least Nino doesn't seem angry at him.
"Of course, man," he says. "We're cool."
Nino leaves. Adrien stays.
He looks around the classroom. A question churns in his mind: is it kinder to spare Marinette's feelings and not take her to formal, or to string her along but give her an amazing opportunity to work with his father, her idol?
He can't decide on an answer. After a final, fleeting look to her chair, he picks up his bag and leaves the room, his heart heavier than it's been in weeks.
Marinette goes to the bathroom for two seconds and returns to find her loft absolutely covered in glitter.
She gasps upon opening the trap door to the room. Her hand flies over her mouth, but she stops her little scream just in time so that her parents don't hear from the bakery.
"Tikki!" she cries, climbing the rest of the way up and shutting the little door behind her. "I asked you to sprinkle some glitter on the night sky back drop — not my entire room!"
Tikki's face falls. She's holding an empty jar of glitter in her tiny arms.
"But it was…" she trails off, sniffling. "It was just so pretty."
Marinette sighs. She looks around at her room. Everything is sparkly — her desk, her sewing machine, her chaise.
She grins. "Well, it is kinda pretty, isn't it?"
They make eye contact again, and Marinette starts to giggle. Tikki follows suit, which just makes Marinette laugh even more.
"How are your parents?" Tikki eventually asks, breaking up the giggles. "Is the bakery busy today?"
Marinette nods. "Yeah. I mean, they haven't got a ton of customers, but since I asked them to cater the desserts for our Winter Formal, they're pretty occupied with that."
"Did you ask your mom about going to meet with Adrien and Gabriel?"
She frowns. "Yeah. Mom still thinks I shouldn't leave the house, even if my fever broke."
Tikki looks at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, Mari. But she's right — you don't want to get anyone else sick."
Before Marinette can respond, her phone starts buzzing incessantly.
Marinette checks her watch and realizes to her dismay that it's already 3:00. "Oh man. That's probably Alya. She'll want to pick up the decorations for the dance."
Her phone is across the room, sitting on the chaise. She tiptoes her way over midnight blue curtains, starry backdrops, and party favors to reach it. Sure enough, the screen is lit up with Alya's picture.
She hits the green call button and rests it against her ear. "Hey, Alya. What's up?"
"Hey girl. How ya feeling?"
Marinette smiles. "I'm alright. I'm tired and my head hurts, but my fever broke and I haven't thrown up again, so that's good."
"That's great! So are we still on to decorate our masks tonight?"
Marinette slaps a hand against her forehead. The Winter Formal on Friday is masquerade-themed, and she's completely forgotten her promise to decorate masks with Alya tonight.
She sighs. "I'm really sorry, Alya, but my mom doesn't want me to hang out with anyone yet because she doesn't want me getting other people sick. I don't wanna bail on you, but do you think we could do it tomorrow?"
There's a short pause on the other line. Then, Alya says, "Totally, girl. No biggie. At least you have a good reason this time, right?"
Marinette bites her lip. The jab stings more than she can admit. Her duties as Ladybug often means that she has to cancel plans with Alya, and she can never give a good reason.
"Yeah, you know, being sick is a pretty good reason," she says, trying to sound lighthearted. "I'm really sorry, though."
"Like I said, no worries," Alya replies. "You think your mom would at least be okay with me swinging by to pick up the decorations, though?"
Marinette nods — and then feels silly because she remembers that Alya can't see her face. "Uh, yeah, I think that'd be fine. I got almost everything done while I've been home at school."
"You're amazing, girl."
"No, you're amazing," Marinette protests. "Thanks for covering for me while I'm sick. You're the only person I trust not to let Chloe try to take over the committee." She grins. "If she had it her way, this dance would be Chloe-Bourgeois-themed."
Alya laughs. "We definitely can't let that happen. Hey, I gotta talk to Nino for a sec, but I'll be over ASAP to pick up the decorations. Okay?"
"Okay. Thanks, Alya. You're the best."
"Anytime, girl!"
The line clicks off. Marinette pulls the phone away from her ear and sighs. This has been, without a doubt, the worst possible week of her life to get sick.
Suddenly, there's a call from downstairs:
"Marinette! Your friend is here!"
Marinette looks at Tikki, bemused. "That was really fast. Alya must've already been on her way over when she called."
Tikki flies over to her usual hiding spot in the potted plant. "Don't let her stay too long — I'm hungry!"
Marinette is about to respond, but the trap door clicks open. She whirls away from Tikki to face the stairs.
"Hi, Aly….a?"
But it's not Alya's head that pops up through the opening in the floor — first there's a mess of blonde hair, and then green eyes, and —
"A-Adrien?" she squeaks.
He grins at her. Her heart skips a beat. He somehow looks even handsomer than usual, halfway up her staircase and staring at her like that.
"Hey, Marinette," he greets. "Can I come up?"
"S-Sure," she stutters.
She suddenly becomes acutely aware of the fact that she's wearing a tank top and shorts, with a pink bathrobe layered on top for warmth — and she's got paint on her face and glitter in her hair. Splendid.
But if Adrien notices, he doesn't say anything — he just hops up the rest of the staircase into her room and takes a look around.
"Wow," he breathes. "Did you make all of this?"
Marinette follows his gaze around the room. She has indeed been very productive while at home from school today: her usually-pink room has been transformed into a sea of midnight-blue curtains, sparkling sky backdrops with city skylines carefully painted on them, and dozens upon dozens of table centerpieces made from glittering paper, confetti, streamers, and fake flowers.
"Uh…yeah," she says, wringing her hands together. "It's nothing. My mom made me stay home from school, so I used the time to work on Winter Formal decorations."
"You made all of this today?" he asks, amazed.
She just nods. Her cheeks are probably as pink as her bathrobe.
Adrien takes a step closer to her. He smiles. "You know, you're incredible, Marinette. Even when you're sick, you're still helping others and being creative."
She feels like she might burst. "Th-that's you sweet. Sweet of that. You're sweet." She groans, and then tries one more time: "That's really sweet of you. Thanks, Adrien."
Adrien doesn't respond. He's staring at her — kind of strangely, maybe like he doesn't want to stop staring. Her heart skips a beat.
"U-um, do you wanna sit?" she asks, taking a step away from him before she explodes or bursts into tears — she isn't really sure what's happening with her emotions at the moment, but she's sure the outcome wouldn't be cute. "I mean, everything's covered in glitter, but, uh…"
She walks over to the chaise and clears it of fabric and craft supplies. "Here," she says, gesturing to the free space.
Adrien walks over and sits on the chaise. Then, he pats the tiny space next to him.
"You look pale," he says, his voice soft with concern. "You should sit, too."
She's about to protest, but —
— with a sigh, she admits, "I am kind of tired."
So she sits next to him. There's so little free space on the chair that their knees bump. She thinks she might melt into a puddle — or maybe it's the fever making a rude comeback.
"So," Adrien starts, leaning back into the chaise a little. "I came by to ask if you want to try coming over later tonight so we can talk to my father about your dress design."
The disappointment that follows his statement threatens to break her heart into a billion pieces.
"My mom won't let me leave the house," she says, slumping into herself like a folding chair. "I don't know if I'll be able to make it."
His face falls. "Oh."
A sad silence settles between them.
Marinette glances at the potted plant where Tikki usually hides. An idea occurs to her. She knows she isn't supposed to use her powers as Ladybug except to protect Paris, but maybe, just this once, she could bend the rules — just a little.
She lets out a sigh, then, in a flash decision, blurts out, "You know what? I'll come. I'll just find a way to sneak out."
Adrien's eyes flash. "Are you sure?"
She nods. "Yeah."
"Is that a good idea?" he asks, eyeing her with one eyebrow raised. "What if your mom catches you?"
"She won't."
"And I don't want you to suddenly collapse from fatigue walking to my house."
She smiles. "I won't. I'm pretty strong."
He opens his mouth to protest, but his worried expression melts into a smile. He nudges her with his shoulder. "That I've noticed."
The blood rushes to her cheeks again, and she can't help a giggle. She's feeling less ill than the previous two days, but surprisingly enough she's managed to hold a steady conversation with Adrien for at least thirty seconds now. Tikki owes her a cookie.
"You know," Adrien starts, his tone teasing, "You've got a bit of a streak for trouble, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I wasn't expecting it."
She grins, ducking her head slightly from embarrassment but still holding his gaze through her eyelashes. "Well, dancing with your father is a dream." She shakes her head. "I mean, working with your father and going to the dance with you is a dream. My mom will understand, like, a year from now. I can't give it up just 'cause I've got a head cold."
Adrien puts a gentle hand on her back. Her heart swells.
"Just a head cold?" he asks, and the concern is back in his gaze again.
She manages a nod even though she kind of feels like she's going to melt like an ice cream cone in the summer sun. "Just a head cold. I'll be better by Friday."
He smiles. "Is that a promise?"
He holds out a pinky for her, and, in a rush of bravery, she clasps her pinky with his.
"Promise," she confirms, her voice smaller than she meant it to be.
Their pinkies stay entwined for a moment — and then another moment, and another. Adrien is looking at her, and she's looking at him, and for once in her life, she doesn't feel scared of her feelings for Adrien — for the first time since the umbrella incident, they make her feel safe.
Without any time for her to process, Adrien's forehead is suddenly very close to hers. Her heart stutters in her chest like a broken machine's cogs splutter and twist. She holds her breath.
His eyes get so close that her gaze becomes cross-eyed. She wishes she could breathe. She blinks once, twice, and then closes her eyes, and then —
— and then, Adrien's phone rings.
She jumps away, nearly smacking his forehead in the process. He grabs his phone, quickly shutting off the alarm.
He frowns. Sighs. She wishes she could keep his eyes from turning so sad like that.
"I've gotta go," he says, putting his phone back in his pocket. "I have a photo shoot on the other side of town."
"O-Oh, right," she says, awkwardly trying to find something to do with her hands. She brushes some glitter off her knees.
He starts to get up. "But you'll come tonight? Around seven o'clock?"
She stands up with him, tugging her bathrobe tighter around her waist. "Yeah. Your house?"
"Uh-huh." He stands straight, now, staring at her again. "You have my number in case you get lost, right?"
She blushes — just the idea of calling him directly makes her heart pump faster. "Yeah, totally. I've got it on speed dial." She cringes. "Errr, like, I have all my friends on speed dial." Totally untrue. She has Alya and her mom and dad, and Adrien holds spot number 4 — not that she's ever used it before.
But Adrien just smiles at her. "Great." He pauses — touches her shoulder with a gentle pressure and winks. "You know, Princess, you can call me anytime, even when you're not lost."
Marinette blinks. Princess?
But before she has time to process it, his phone alarm goes off again. He checks it, and grins sheepishly.
"I really gotta go," he says, heading for the trap door. He turns toward her one last time. "See you in a few hours?"
She nods. "Yeah. I, uh. I'll see you in a few hours."
He scootches through the trap door and down to the little staircase. It clicks shut behind him.
Marinette stands at her chaise. The gears in her head are turning.
"Tikki," she breathes, feeling her kwami's presence beside her before she even turns to look. "Did he just…did we? What just? Did you hear all that? Did you see all that?"
Tikki's mouth is dropped open, equally dumbfounded. The two stare at each other, and Marinette, though caught up in a whirlwind of emotions, is aware enough to come to three very important conclusions:
One, Adrien Agreste — Adrien Agreste, her crush of two years — most definitely almost kissed her.
Two, there's only one person in the world who has ever called her Princess. And three —
— and three, this head cold must really be getting to her.
(Y'all I'm so sorry for the delay. Finals week happened and then I had to travel home and blah blah blah. I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I can, and thank you all for your kind reviews thus far. Bisous!)