The restaurant that Adrien had decided on for their date looked expensive– and Marinette was shocked to see that the prices on the menu confirmed that it was, in fact, ridiculously expensive– but she supposed that money must not be an object for someone as wealthy as the heir to the Agreste fortune.
Adrien ordered a bottle of champagne for them as soon as they were seated at their private booth in the back, selecting the most costly option before the waiter scurried away, returning moments later with a bottle and two flutes. He expertly poured one for each of them before leaving with the promise that he'd return to take their orders momentarily.
"What are we celebrating?" Marinette asked as she eyed the bubbling liquid that had been set before her, nervously twisting a lock of hair around her finger.
Adrien smiled and lifted his glass to toast against hers. "You being back in Paris."
With a pink blush blooming across her cheeks, Marinette raised her own glass and touched it to his with a clink. She tentatively took a sip and was pleasantly surprised; the fizzy, buttery drink went down smoothly with no bitter aftertaste.
They made small talk about what looked good on the menu and what they should order until their server returned a second time; Adrien ordered a serving of oysters on the half shell to share for an appetizer. For the main course, he ordered the lamb flank while Marinette settled on the seafood pasta, worried about what Adrien would think of her if she ordered anything too pricey.
When the waiter disappeared again, once more leaving the couple alone, Marinette felt the icy cold tendrils of guilt begin to wrap around her heart and squeeze. She had yet to beg for Adrien's forgiveness after leaving him in the wake of his father's death years ago– a tragic accident which she had inadvertently played a pivotal role in– and she figured that she had to do the right thing before they went any further. She already felt shameful enough that he was spending so much money on her for their date when she didn't deserve such.
"So, Marinette," Adrien started as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, fixing his jeweled gaze on her. "How do you like fashion journalism?"
Marinette swallowed back her apology.
"It's not really a career that I meant to get into," she started, fidgeting her hands on top of the pristine white tablecloth. "But after graduating from design school, breaking into the industry as a fashion designer proved to be difficult… so it just sort of happened."
She noticed that she was rudely staring down as she spoke; when she looked back up at her date, she found that he was giving her a pitying look. The last thing she wanted was his pity.
"Not that I mind," she amended quickly. "The money is good and I still get to travel to fashion events all around the world, so…"
She trailed off, ending her point with a shrug of her shoulders. Talking about herself only made her more nervous; she found that she'd rather talk about Adrien to keep the focus off of herself and her lackluster life.
"What about you, Adrien? What did you end up going to school for?"
Adrien's eyes glittered and the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a small smile. "Theater. I wanted to become an actor, like my mother. But…"
"But?" Marinette pressed gently.
He sighed. "Life got in the way. As it usually does."
Marinette's stomach twisted; she knew that, after the death of Paris's most famous fashion designer, Adrien had been forced to inherit all of his father's investments and business ventures, and that included all of the responsibilities that came with them. He took over Gabriel's flagship design line and made appearances at many of the industry's biggest events on the company's behalf. He even still modeled occasionally, but to hear that Adrien hadn't been able to achieve his lifelong goal of becoming an actor– because of her interference– wrenched her heart.
He had been thrust into adulthood too soon, killing his dreams before they had even begun, and it was her fault.
"Adrien," she began quietly, resolving to apologize once and for all. "I'm… I'm sorry."
Adrien tilted his head. "For what?"
"For…" She struggled to find the words. What was she sorry for? For being the cause of Gabriel Agreste's death? For leaving Adrien in his moment of need, to deal with the loss of his father alone? For running away to New York rather than face him and own up to what she had done?
"For everything." Her tone was somber. "The night of the dance, I was akumatized because I was sad. Sad and angry. I was so sad that I had lost my chance with you, and so angry at Chloe for taking you away from me."
Her hands shook and she held them in her lap to steady them.
"I don't remember what happened while I was the villain known as Lovebug, but I've heard bits and pieces. I know that I flew your father up to the top of the Eiffel Tower. I don't know if I pushed him over the edge or if something else happened, but if I hadn't been akumatized in the first place, if I would've just stayed in control of my emotions, none of it would've happened."
A tear sprung to her eye and she blinked it away. "And then I ran away when you needed me. I should have stayed, should have helped you, but I was so afraid of what you thought of me then. I was scared that I would look into your eyes and see the hatred that you held for me."
Her voice broke. "I'm so sorry, Adrien. I know it's unfair of me to ask for your forgiveness, but I truly am sorry. I've been sorry every day of my life since it happened."
A moment of tense silence passed between the pair. Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, wishing for Adrien to say something. Anything. Even if he told he to go away, that he never wanted to see her again, she would. She would do anything that he asked of her.
"Marinette, that wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault." Reaching under the table, the handsome man seated across from her placed a warm hand atop her own, ceasing the trembling of her fingers. "You have to believe me."
Marinette tilted her head up, blue eyes meeting green, and could see the sincerity of Adrien's words reflected in his irises.
"My father was Hawk Moth all along," he continued. "I didn't know it at the time, but… I was there, on the ground, while you and Cat Noir were fighting him atop the Eiffel Tower. He lost his footing, and he fell. It was an accident. No one could have prevented it."
A sad smile quirked at the corner of his lips. "If anything, his death was his own fault for being a villain."
"Villain or not, he didn't deserve to die," Marinette said softly. "He was your father, and he may have been controlling and overprotective at times, but he was still a person. A human being."
Adrien was taken aback by her kind words, and squeezed her hand gently beneath the table. "Thank you, Marinette. That means a lot to me for you to say that."
Marinette forced a smile. "Don't thank me. Just knowing that you don't hate me is enough."
"Marinette, I could never hate you." Adrien returned her smile with a genuine one of his own. "In fact, how could I possibly hate you when I lov–"
He was interrupted by the reappearance of their server, carrying their appetizer of oysters.
–
Marinette didn't realize how much time had passed until the waiter apologetically dropped off their bill at the end of the night. Around them, the room was devoid of any other patrons, and it became painfully obvious that the establishment had been closed for quite some time, but the pair had been too engrossed in their conversation to notice the restaurant shutting down around them. They had finished their desserts an hour earlier (rather, Marinette had tried to finish her flourless chocolate torte, but was too stuffed from their delicious meal to make much progress), and had been talking nonstop ever since. Adrien gratuitously told the man it was no problem and paid the check in full with a generous tip. He rose from his seat, ready to leave, stretching his stiff muscles before offering Marinette his arm and escorting her out of the building.
Although it was late, the brisk air outside reinvigorated Marinette, and she found that she didn't feel as tired as she should considering the hour. It was a weeknight, and so the Parisian streets weren't as busy as they usually were, leaving Adrien and Marinette practically alone as they walked the short block to where Adrien had parked his car, arm-in-arm the entire way. The elegant facades of the buildings were mostly dark as they passed them, illuminated only by the warm orange glow from the streetlamps, making Marinette feel as though they had Paris all to themselves. She couldn't help but revel in how romantic the whole idea of it was.
"Do you work tomorrow?" Adrien asked; his voice was the only sound on the street beside the rhythmic clicking of Marinette's heels on the pavement echoing around them.
Marinette shook her head, watching the way their footsteps fell into sync as they walked. "No, I don't start until next week. Why?"
"Would you like to come back to my place for a drink?" His green eyes glinted as he looked at her beside him from over his shoulder. "I don't want this night to be over yet."
Marinette's heart leapt into her throat. A nightcap? At Adrien's house? Alone? With him?
A giddy tingle started in the tips of her fingers and toes, travelling upward until it consumed her, electrifying her body all over.
"I don't want this night to be over yet, either," she agreed bashfully, resting her cheek against the sleeve of Adrien's suit coat.
–
The Agreste mansion was just as Marinette remembered it when they pulled up, the iron gate opening automatically to let them in. Adrien parked on the curb in front of the towering manor, helping Marinette out of the car before leading her up the steps and into the house through the front door.
Memories flooded her as Marinette took in the sight of the extravagant foyer, its familiar floor-to-ceiling marble finishes and Art Deco tiling reminding her of all the times she had come to call on Adrien as a teenager. Standing there, in the middle of the floor, Marinette once again felt like the shy, lovestruck girl she had once been– and perhaps she still was, if only because Adrien had that effect on her.
The only difference that Marinette could see was the absence of the portrait of Gabriel and Adrien, dressed all over in stylish black, that used to hang above the landing of the grand staircase; in its place hung a blown up black-and-white photograph of a young Gabriel and his wife Emilie, presumably from their engagement. In the photograph, Gabriel, dressed casually in a white, collared shirt, was facing away from the camera, so that his back was visible to the viewer. His head was turned to the side, revealing his profile, as he gazed upon the woman he loved beside him. Emilie stood facing the camera, with both of her pale, slender arms slinked around Gabriel's right arm as she looked off into the distance with a smile, her light hair falling in silky waves over her bare shoulders and the lace of her sleeveless dress.
Marinette wondered vaguely, if she had been the one to be with Adrien for the past ten years, would they have been engaged by now, or even married? Would he have hung a similar portrait of them together on the wall?
She was so caught up in her reminiscing that she didn't notice when Adrien reappeared beside her, following the direction of her gaze to land on the portrait.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured. "I found it when I was cleaning out my father's office after the funeral. He had a whole collection of photos of my mom that he had never shown me before. This one was taken before their wedding."
Marinette nodded; it was a lovely photograph, perhaps the loveliest she had ever seen. Although Gabriel had been a stern and nonsensical man, the fleeting look of love in his eyes had been captured perfectly by the camera's lens. It reminded her of the way that she had caught Adrien looking at her a few times during dinner; the thought made her stomach flutter.
As though he could read her mind, Adrien placed his hands on either of Marinette's shoulders and gently turned her to face him, forcing her to stare directly into his eyes; Marinette could see the thinly-veiled hunger that darkened his irises. Hunger for her.
Adrien leaned closer and Marinette's heart began to race, eagerly anticipating the kiss that she knew was coming. He teased her by placing his lips at the corner of her mouth first, leaving a feather-light kiss there that caused Marinette to crave more. He misread her response and hesitated slightly when he felt her tense beneath his hands, pulling back an inch. Growing impatient, Marinette took the lead, turning her head just enough so that their lips finally met in a kiss that was both chaste and sweet.
The kiss was reserved at first, as they each tested the waters, but before long Marinette began to feel the same hunger and kissed him with more determination, hoping to show him with her actions that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She slid her hands up his covered abdomen, feeling the way the muscles of his toned stomach twitched beneath her touch, before coming to rest beneath his jacket, against his pecs. She flicked her tongue out to taste his bottom lip and Adrien groaned, parting his mouth to have a taste of her as well. They spent agonizing minutes exploring each other's mouths, their tongues grazing each other slowly, tantalizingly, as the kiss became more heated. It had been so long since Marinette had been kissed in such a way, and yet the experience was brand new and exciting, because this time she had the emotion– her love for Adrien– to back up the physical act.
Needing to feel more of him against her, Marinette pressed her body along his front, gasping when she felt the tangible hardness in Adrien's slacks pushing against her womb. At the sound, Adrien wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her deeper and with even more passion, causing them both to moan into the kiss.
When they broke apart for air at last, panting and breathless, Adrien rained tiny kisses over her cheek and jaw, down the sensitive skin of her neck and back up again, before resting his lips against the shell of her ear and whispering the words that caused Marinette's knees to buckle and boiling nectar to pulse through her veins:
"Stay with me tonight."
