Say Yes
Fluffies ahead! I don't own this show. Just a heads up, I won't be able to post next week because I am getting my wisdom teeth out, and I'll be sick for a few days. I hope that you enjoy!
-Marinette-
"Did you finish the homework last night?" I ask Alya the second I slip into the seat next to her.
She eyes me curiously before nodding.
"I need to copy off of you." I confess.
She rolls her eyes and hands me her math folder. I have approximately four minutes before class starts to scribble down all of Alya's answers. Hopefully I won't be called up to the blackboard to explain how I got my answers, because frankly I don't know shit. I frantically copy the solutions, the numbers are meaningless as I write them in the blank spaces of my worksheet.
"You want to tell me what you were doing last night?" Alya interrogates me with a devilish smirk crossing her face.
"Portfolio stuff." I mutter, not looking up from the worksheet.
"Liar." She accuses. "I know that you submitted your portfolio yesterday morning."
She does know. She knows my own schedule better than I do. She's crazy and invasive, but I couldn't have asked for a better best friend. Unlike most of the people I've told, she wasn't surprised when I told her that I wanted to go to London for university. She was also the person I would call in the middle of the night whenever I felt hopeless, like I would never be good enough to get into fashion school. Alya is so incredibly supportive of me, I owe her a lot for helping me gain confidence in myself.
"Right, I'm just stressed." I tell her.
It's not a lie. I'm very stressed. I still have a few more months of school left before getting my diploma, meaning that I have to achieve the best grades that I can possibly get. Which also means studying all night and drinking an insane amount of coffee. I already know that I'm getting honour roll, I've worked hard enough for it. I had to work twice as hard the last four years to keep up with both saving Paris and my schoolwork. But now that Hawkmoth is gone I can focus solely on my schoolwork. Well, that and my designs.
"Morning." I hear a cheerful voice greet me.
I look up from the math worksheet to see Adrien slide into the seat in front of me. He wore a small, yet mischievous smile on his face. He gently took my hand, the one tightly gripping my pen, and placed a delicate kiss on my wrist. Right in front of Alya. Who proceeded to scream. Loudly. Right in my ear. Thanks, Adrien.
When she screams, every eye in the classroom is suddenly on us. I receive curious glances from all of my classmates, and a thumbs up from a pleasantly shocked Nino. I'm used to having attention as Ladybug, that is to be expected when you're a superhero. But at least when I'm hiding behind a mask, nobody can judge me. Having this kind of attention as Marinette feels uncomfortable.
"So that's what was keeping you up last night?" Alya squeaked after she had finished screaming like a banshee.
Adrien and I looked at each other, he was trying his best to keep in a laugh, biting on his bottom lip. I, on the other hand, wanted to flick him in the ear, or worse. Now Alya is going to bombard me with questions, meaning I have to make up a bunch of lies to protect both of our identities. I'm not sure what I'm going to say to her. I mean, Adrien and I just talked last night, nothing happened. We are not together, at least we are not officially together. We're in that weird grey area between dating and more than friends, which can only be described as being awkward as hell. I look back to Alya, she's smiling gleefully, practically shaking with excitement. She's like a firecracker about to explode.
"It's not like that." I whisper.
Alya playfully slaps me on the shoulder. It isn't hard, but it stings just enough to let me know that she doesn't believe a thing that I'm telling her. I roll my eyes at her and force myself to focus on copying down the last few answers before class, I can feel Alya's eyes burning holes in my skull. I can only imagine what Chloe's face looks like right now. Despite my better judgement, I look to my right. Yup, Chloe definitely saw Adrien kiss my hand because now she is giving me this bitter death glare. As if she didn't hate me enough.
That is when the late bell rang loudly in my ear, radiating throughout the classroom. I slid Alya's math worksheet back to her, making sure not to make eye contact with her as I did so. I try to listen to the lesson, I try to focus on taking notes, but I can't. All that I can think about is how the bell will inevitably ring, and I'm fairly uncertain of what will happen after that. Sure, Alya will ask ten thousand questions. Sure, I probably won't be able to correctly answer any of them. Or at least, I won't give her the answers that she wants. Adrien isn't my boyfriend. I feel a small twinge of pain sting my heart at that sentence. Adrien Agreste is not my boyfriend. Do I want him to be my boyfriend? Of course. Will we become a couple in the future? Maybe. I think. He seemed rather disappointed when I told him that I wanted to go to London. Maybe he doesn't want to start something with me if I'm just going to leave. That's understandable, and it doesn't mean that we can't still be friends. That thought gave me a terrible feeling right in the pit of my stomach. I don't think that I could handle just being friends with him. Sure, I've managed to handle it for nearly four years, but everything was different now. Everything was better now.
I don't hear the lunch bell as it chimes and signals that morning classes are over. I don't look up from the piece of paper in front of me, blank except for my name and the date at the top. I don't stand up from my seat, even though the wooden bench is hard and uncomfortable. I hear footsteps of my classmates as they exit the room, cheerful chatter fills my ears. I don't moved until someone grabs my shoulder in a tight death grip. And it isn't Alya.
"Want to explain to me what that little PDA was this morning?" Chloe's snobbish voice intrudes my thoughts as I look up at her.
"Nothing." I reply simply, packing up my books and frantically shoving them into my bookbag. I really don't feel like dealing with Chloe's shit right now.
Her grip on my shoulder doesn't weaken, she tries to push me back down when I stand up. I glare at her, eyes narrowed at her, a tight-lipped frown crossing my face. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something that I know that I'll regret. Take a deep breath Marinette, she doesn't deserve my time, she isn't worth getting angry. In a few months I will be free of her, I'll never have to see her again.
"If you think that I believe that for one second then you have another thing coming." Chloe tries to sound threatening, but she really doesn't scare me anymore.
I gently remove her hand from my shoulder and sling my knapsack over my shoulder. The best part about all of this is that I don't owe her an explanation. She mutters something that I don't quite catch, but it hardly matters. I walk around the blonde girl, who is standing like a statue with her hands glued to her hips. She thinks that she's intimidating. If one person in class isn't ready to graduate and take on the real world, it's Chloe. Not because she hasn't decided on a university or an area of study, but simply because of the way she acts. She doesn't realize that her childish 'I'm better than you' attitude isn't going to be accepted in the real world. She is already eighteen, but she doesn't act like it. Chloe needs to learn to grow up, mature and become a real adult.
I exit the classroom, leaving Chloe seething where she stood. Alya is waiting for me in the hallway, tapping her foot anxiously. Nino was standing behind her, dragging a very annoyed-looking Adrien behind him. Alya doesn't say anything, she saunters up to me like she owns the place, grabs me by the sleeve of my jacket and drags me away, Nino and Adrien following behind us. While I didn't have to tell Chloe a thing, I have to tell Alya everything. Or at least, everything that I can answer. Alya drags me down the steps of the school and into the courtyard, where the sun is beating down on our heads. While it's still a relatively cool day, the sun has decided to grace us with its presence. It doesn't do much to warm the Earth, but it makes me feel as though Spring has arrived early. Alya sits me down on a stone bench in the courtyard, Nino forces Adrien to sit next to me. They are both staring at us with their arms crossed, like they're parents lecturing their children.
"What is this?" Alya asks, gesturing between Adrien and I.
"Yeah, are you, you know?" Nino finally asks, putting his hands together and making an 'ooh' sound with his mouth.
The two of us look at each other, blue eyes meeting green. He has the same deer in the headlights look that I do, and neither of us are sure of what to say to her. He smiles at me anxiously, and the warm feeling returns to my body, hitting me like a crashing tidal wave of emotions. I feel very strongly for him, something that goes beyond a simple teenage hormone-induced attraction. But I'm not going to tell him that. Ever.
"This is, uh…" I stutter and stumble, I can't find the words to describe whatever we are.
I can't say we're together, because we aren't. And I can't say that we're just friends, because that's not it either. I can't say anything. If I speak then I know that I'll say the wrong thing. I might have a chance with Adrien. We know that we like each other. But whether or not we're going to give a relationship a shot is kind of up in the air. He knows that I might be leaving. Time and distance might not be in our favour. I open my mouth to try and speak again, but my words get caught in my throat. I look down at my shaking hands, my palms are slick with sweat. This should be easy, a simple yes or no answer. Why is everything so unnecessarily complicated? No matter what I say it will be the wrong thing. The silence only fuels my anxiety, and I'm afraid to make eye contact with anyone. Maybe if I close my eyes tight enough the world will go away. I'm seriously contemplating transforming right here, right now, and jumping over every rooftop until I leave the city behind.
"I haven't asked her out yet." Adrien finally breaks the silence.
"Well, you've waited this long." Alya whispers, Nino lets out a small snort.
"We only just found out we like each other," I try. Nino and Alya burst out laughing. "It's only been a day."
Alya and Nino are still laughing. Nino is clutching his sides and Alya's face is so red that I'm wondering if she can even breathe. Adrien and I look at each other again, identical expressions of confusion crossing our faces. Adrien gives me a subtle shrug, letting me know that he doesn't understand either.
"It hasn't been a day," Nino gasps through is hysteria. "It's been four damn years."
It takes at least five minutes for the two of them to calm down, at which point I just want to go home because I'm starving. It's at least twenty minutes past twelve by now, my parents are expecting me back at the bakery, my lunch is probably already cold. My stomach growls angrily, as though it is mad at my best friends for keeping it from food.
"Well if you'll excuse me," Alya smirked after finally catching her breath. "Now that Adrien and Marinette are together, certain people owe me money."
My eyes grow to the size of plates, my jaw becomes slack. I look at Adrien, then Nino, and then back to Alya. She didn't.
"Did you bet on our relationship?" I'm hesitant to ask. And shocked, definitely shocked. But at the same time, I kind of want to laugh.
"Maybe." Alya squeaked.
"We did." Nino overlapped Alya, who smacked him on the shoulder playfully. "What? The whole class bet on them."
I feel the blood immediately rushing to my cheeks and I feel the overwhelming urge to escape again. Plus my stomach is groaning in starvation and I really just want food.
"The whole class?" It was Adrien's turn to be shocked.
The look on his face was amusing. He was sort of just sitting next to me, completely still like a statue. His eyes were open wide, his cheeks were as red as a tomato, his mouth was open ever so slightly. Alya and Nino stifled another giggle before bolting off in the opposite direction.
"Hey!" Adrien called after them, standing up from his seat on the bench. I could hear Alya and Nino laughing as they ran. "You both have explaining to do."
My stomach growled ferociously again, letting me know that it was time to go. I smirked as I watched Alya and Nino take off, they were completely ridiculous, and I adored the both of them. I slowly stood up from my seat, dusting the dirt off of my pants as I did. I was about to turn away and head down the sidewalk when I felt a hand on my arm. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
"So, how about it?" Adrien's voice quaking, as though he was nervous about something.
I turned around to look at him. His face was still completely red, he stared down at the floor with a bashful smile on his face, he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.
"What?" I inquired.
I knew exactly what he was going to ask. Or at least, my teenage hormone filled mind was jumping to conclusions.
"Marinette," He started, tapping his foot anxiously. He smiled at me, his eyes finally meeting mine. "Are you free on Friday?"
I don't think that I've ever said yes faster in my entire life.
-Adrien-
Friday doesn't come around fast enough, and at the same time the day is here too quickly. It's five in the afternoon, I'm wearing a nice jacket, my hair is perfectly combed, and I've brushed my teeth twice. I stand outside the door to her apartment, and I can't force my hand to knock. One of my hands is shaking anxiously at my side while the other is clutching the rose that I had picked up from the florist. It's a pretty colour, a light pink, Mari loves this colour because it brings out the blue in her eyes. Those pretty blue eyes. My foot won't stop tapping on the floor, and my leg refuses to stop shaking. It appears that I can't stand absolutely still for longer than one second. The butterflies in my stomach made it difficult to breathe. I could feel my heart doing flips in my chest. Oh, God I hope that I can remember how to speak. How long have I been standing outside her door? A minute? An hour? A day? I've completely lost track of time. Okay, so I'm nervous. I'm Adrien Agreste, semi-famous model and son of the most affluent man in all of Paris, and I'm nervous as fuck for my very first date. This isn't just my first date, it's also probably her's. This night has to be memorable, it has to be something that we're both going to look back on as a good experience. And it could potentially go terribly wrong. This isn't a date with just anyone, this is a date with Marinette, a date with Ladybug. This is a date with the girl that I have been completely hopelessly in love with for the last four years of my life. This date has to be perfect. I force myself to take a deep breath, reminding myself that she is probably just as nervous as I am. I force myself to knock on the door before I lose my nerve, the noise echoing through my brain. No turning back now. I take another breath as the doorknob turns, agonizingly slowly, and the door creaks open. Marinette's mother stands in the doorway, a sweet and welcoming smile on her face.
"Hello Adrien," She greets, opening the door for me. "It's lovely to see you again."
"You too." I smile politely, trying not to look like I'm about to explode into a big pile of nerves.
"Marinette will be right down," Mrs. Dupain-Cheng guides me to the living area, a plate of cookies has been left on the coffee table. "Take a seat, help yourself to a cookie."
I'm taking Marinette out for dinner, so I don't want to spoil my appetite. But those cookies just look so tempting, and it would be rude to decline a treat after Mrs. Dupain-Cheng offered. So I take a cookie, which is absolutely heavenly. There isn't too much sugar, but it's still perfectly sweet, the chocolate chips melt in my mouth. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng notices my smile and stifles a chuckle.
"There's plenty more where those came from," She tells me. "Isn't that right, Tom?"
I spin around in my seat, and Marinette's father is looming over me. He's tall. Like, scary tall. It's a tad intimidating, I'll admit to that. Marinette has assured me that her father is basically a giant teddy bear, which makes me feel better.
"We also have leftover croissants if you want some." He tells me. I don't know if it's just nerves, but his voice seems deeper than the last time I spoke with him.
"Papa, stop trying to force feed people." A voice trills from the top of the stairs.
I look up and my breath immediately stops. Marinette looks absolutely stunning. She's wearing a casual sundress, pink of course, with a pair of strappy tan sandals. On her wrist is a string of gold bands, and her hair is done up in a bun instead of its usual pigtails. I don't stop the smile that's growing on my face as I stand up from the couch. I take a mental picture of her in my mind as she descends the stairs, the skirt of her dress billows as she walks. I grip the flower in my hand as all of the words that I want to say get stuck in my throat.
"Hi Adrien." She greets me. She seems so small when she's standing in front of me, but her smile is bigger than anything I've ever seen.
"Hey." I manage to sputter out. I force myself to moved the hand with the flower in it, offering it to her. "I got you something."
She smiles and carefully takes the rose from my hand, our fingers gently brushing together in the process. I feel a jolt of electricity shoot up my body, I see Marinette's eyes go wide for a moment and her face slowly turns crimson, and I know that she felt it too.
"Thank you," Her voice shakes as she smiles down at the flower in her hand. "Should we go?"
Why am I suddenly so nervous around her? I've been imagining this moment for the better part of the last four years. Taking the girl behind the mask out on a date. I had everything planned out in my head so perfectly, and now I'm completely frozen. Take a deep breath Adrien, this is Marinette. She is your friend. You are going to go out and have the perfect date. Oh God, what if it's not perfect? What if something goes wrong? What if I spill something on my shirt? Or say the wrong thing. Breathe Adrien, breathe.
"Uh, yeah." I manage to stutter, holding my arm out for her to take.
She smiles demurely and accepts my arm, she feels warm and soft. She is so unbelievable in the best way possible.
"Oh, I need to take a picture." Mrs. Dupain-Cheng gushes, pulling her phone out of her pocket.
"Mom!" Marinette whines. I don't know how it's possible, but her face has become an even darker shade of red.
I think it's cute that her mother cares enough to take a picture of her daughter going on her first date. I wish that I had someone who would do that for me. Sadly, my mother was nowhere to be found and my father probably thought that I was in my bedroom studying. He hasn't been home in a few days, but that's normal in the Agreste household. It doesn't really matter to me if my father doesn't get to take a photo of me before going on my first date. But it sort of stings that my mom isn't here to see this. That she will never give me dating advice, or remind me to relax and be my charming self. She will never see me smile for a picture like this, wearing a genuine smile on my face and standing next to a beautiful girl whom I love more than life itself. When our photo op is finished, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng wish us well, also reminding us to be home by nine. I hail a taxi from the street and tell the driver the address.
"Where are we going?" Marinette asks, slipping into the leather seat and buckling herself in.
"It's a surprise." I tell her. An excited, yet nervous smile crosses her lips. I love that smile.
The cab rolls down the street, bumping and shaking along the unevenly paved streets. The sun is steadily getting lower in the sky, which is slowly turning shades of red and pink. It's then that I feel a warmth grazing past my fingers. I look down and notice Marinette's hand is right next to mine, slowly inching closer. I feel the heat rise to my cheeks again as my eyes flicker between her perfectly manicured hand and the bright smile that crosses her face. Should I hold her hand? Does she want me to hold her hand? How do I know if she wants me to hold her hand?
The taxi screeches to a stop before I can make my decision. At first I think that Marinette is going to exit the vehicle and wait for me by the curb, but she doesn't. Instead she stays in her seat, only moving to unbuckle her seatbelt. It takes me a moment before I realize that she's waiting for me to pay the driver. I fiddle with my wallet before handing the driver the appropriate amount of euros. I let Marinette get out first and I follow close behind her. She stands in front of the restaurant, a popular local hotspot run by a world famous chef.
The inside is nice, the sleek walls are covered with photography, and fancy lights hang from the ceiling. The host leads Marinette and I to a private table in the back, covered in a white tablecloth and decorated with candles. I pull out Marinette's chair for her, and she represses a small chuckle as she sits down.
"Adrien," She gasps, immediately after opening the menu. "This is ludicrously expensive, I won't be able to pay for any of this."
"Well then, it's a good thing that I'm treating you." I tell her, taking a look at my own menu.
"I can't let you do that." She responds, closing the menu again and placing it in her lap.
"Why not?" I start getting worried after that. Am I not supposed to pay for everything? Are we supposed to go dutch on our first date? That's the more casual thing to do, right?
"I'll feel guilty." She admits, anxiously adjusting her skirt.
"Don't." I insist, simultaneously praying that I don't sound like a pretentious rich boy.
She opens her mouth again and then closes it before letting out a small sigh. Her face is still completely red. Note to self, do not take a girl to the most expensive restaurant in Paris for your first date.
"Okay," She gives in. "But I'm paying for ice cream after."
I can't stop the ear to ear grin that appears on my face, nor can I stop the small chuckle that bubbles in my throat.
"Deal." I tell her.
I don't think that her smile fades for the remainder of our dinner. We talk about anything and everything. She asks me about me, about how I'm doing, how I'm feeling. And there's this feeling of safety when I'm with her, this comfort that makes me want to tell her everything. I don't feel alone when I'm with her. I've felt completely isolated since my mom left. But for her I smile, I laugh at her jokes, a real, genuine, laughter that I myself haven't heard in years. I pretend not to notice when she orders the cheapest dish on the menu, even though I want to tell her to treat herself. She deserves to feel like a queen every day of her life. We're so caught up in our conversation that, after we finish, our bill lies untouched on the table for a good half hour before I pay. We're having such a great time together that I completely forget about the pressure to be perfect, I forget that I was ever alone. She's something spectacular, Marinette.
She keeps her word and pays for ice cream afterwards. It's a short walk to the parlour, a clean and well-lit place just around the corner from the Eiffel Tower. The neon sign is lit like a beacon in the night, rivaled only by the streetlights that line the roads. The world has turned dark again, the clouds cover the moon and any stars, refusing to let their light grace the Earth. But it's bright in the ice cream parlour, although it is slightly chilly. I see Marinette shivering ever so slightly. Should I give her my jacket? That's what I'm supposed to do, right?
"What flavour would you like?" She asks, her voice as sweet as sugar.
"Oh, chocolate chip." I reply with a smile.
She orders the ice cream, along with an orange sherbet for herself. She pays for the treat and we find a nice bench to sit at outside, one with a perfect view of the tower. How many nights have I spent with her in this city, how many times have we sat on top of that tower and watched the city below. Too many times to count. It's dark outside, but the light from the streetlamp shines down on the both of us like a spotlight. The light illuminates her face and gives off the illusion that she's glowing as she eats her ice cream. She eventually stops eating and looks at me oddly. Crap, how long have I been staring at her? That is when I realize that I have not even taken a bite of my ice cream, and the frozen treat has melted into a runny mess. She chuckles and hands me a few napkins.
"Not hungry?" She inquires with a sly smirk.
I take my first bite of ice cream, which I could probably pour into a cup and drink at this point. The dessert is still cold and creamy, and it tastes absolutely heavenly and sugary in my mouth. Marinette is still giggling as she wipes her mouth with one of the extra napkins. She's fairly careful with her treat, making sure that none of it spills on her dress. It's one of her creations, I know that. I wonder if she designed it for a special occasion, or if it was just a fun project she decided to take on because she had extra fabric. The garment is very flattering on her, the shape compliments her body, the colour brings out her eyes, and the cut makes her look just a bit taller.
"Your dress is nice." I tell her. "Is that one of the designs you used for your portfolio?"
"No," She replies, taking another bite of ice cream. "The design is too simple."
"Have you heard back from anywhere yet?" I ask.
"Not yet," She tells me. "But I should get a yes or no from London within the next week or two."
The way she says London is so full of hope and longing. Is it bad that I don't want her to get in? Yes. Is it selfish? Definitely. She wants to go to London. She wants to leave Paris. She wants to achieve things that she never will if she stays here. She might leave. She might leave me behind. And I might be alone again. While my heart twists painfully in my chest, I keep smiling for her.
"You haven't told me," She says as though she has just remembered. "What are you doing next year?"
Next year is a bit of a wild card for me. It's sort of a toss between what I want for my future and what father wants for my future. My father will probably get his way in the end. He always does. I just wish that he would hear me out, respect that I don't want the same things that he wants.
"Well, father wants me to continue modelling," I respond, my smile finally falling from my face. "He wants me to-"
"What do you want?" She interrupts.
I'm caught off guard for a moment. Nobody has ever asked me what I want. Or, at least, nobody has ever cared to listen.
"What do you want to do next year?" She repeats.
I only applied to a few universities. While my friends applied to ten programs at the least, I only applied to three. I've heard back from one, the only one that really matters to me. University of Paris, currently undeclared major. It's the university that my mother went to. I've been without her for so long, I want to be somewhere I feel connected to her again.
"I'm not entirely sure," I tell her. "I've always been so focused on what my father wants that I've never really focused on what I want."
I look at her, surprised to see that she's still listening. Nobody ever listens to me the way she does.
"I applied to the University of Paris, undeclared," I tell her. "And I got my acceptance letter a few days ago."
She smiles at me, a real smile filled with actual excitement. My father was not this excited when I told him.
"That's great, Adrien." She replies, she sounds happy. Like she's proud of me.
She shifts closer to me on the bench, gently placing her hand on top of mine. The electric shock returns, filling my body with warmth and comfort, but also love. Marinette wants me to succeed. She wants me to do what I want, she wants what makes me happy. I've never gotten that from my father. I find myself absentmindedly moving closer to her, my fingers intertwined with her's. She smells like flowers, a scent that is completely exhilarating, and I can practically smell the ice cream on her breath. Her lips are pink and glossy, and I wonder if they taste like sherbet. Her face is so close to mine, I lose the ability to breathe. Oh, is air important? I can't remember. Her face is only a few centimeters away from mine, our noses are just barely touching. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I take that as my cue to lean in.
She does indeed taste like orange sherbet, with just the slightest hint of spearmint. Her lips are frozen from the treat, but mine are quickly warming them up. Her grip tightens on my hand, a comforting and exhilarating feeling. Her lips are just as soft as I remember them, just as irresistible. We haven't kissed since that night on top of the Eiffel Tower, we have never kissed as Marinette and Adrien.
This is and isn't our first kiss.
Yet, it is absolutely perfect.
I have never made Adrien's part this long before. As much as I wanted to make their first date in Mari's pov, I feel like we don't see Adrien's nervous side enough in fan fictions, especially when it comes to dating. I feel like Adrien would know next to nothing about dating or girls or anything because who's gonna give him the talk? Definitely not his father.
Sorry again that there wont be an update for next week, blame overpriced tooth surgery. Seriously, my sister should really consider switching her major to orthodontics, that's where the money is.
Hope that you enjoyed!
Keep on reading!
