*trigger warning* -this chapter includes descriptions of gaslighting so please be aware. i am keeping the rating T bc i think it is important especially for girls to learn about this kind of control which is used on us all the time. if u need another example I suggest u watch the movie Tangled bc the witch/mom is like a textbook example of gaslighting which is when someone convinces u that your feelings and fears are your fault or are not real bc u r being crazy or oversenstitive

also thank u so much for the reviews! if it were up to u guys, Michel would be impaled with knives (FictionGirl11), shot with poison arrows (lumigo akvo9504), cut up with a chainsaw! (JayFan67), ripped apart piece by piece (obsidiandragon182005), and then left to rot in hell for eternity (dagm0397). writing communities are the best :o*

i didn't know this fic would get so heavy but don't worry it will be cute and fun again soon, and dickbag of the year will definitely get his comeuppance

xo moonbaby

…..

Marinette felt warm arms engulf her from behind, and Adrien's cheek against hers. Her eyes closed and she let herself be held as another tear snuck out from the corner of her eye, a tear of exhaustion and overwhelming feeling instead of the angry, nauseous surprise she had felt at the rink. Michel had meant to blindside her, and he had succeeded.

"I'm here for you, Mari," he said softly as he released her. What can I do? he thought. As much as I'd like to rip Michel into tiny pieces and throw him in the Seine, this isn't my fight.

She turned and looked up at him, her face drawn with tiredness, eyes heavy with feeling. Adrien drew her into another hug and she melted into it, grateful for the strength and comfort of him. A distant part of her mind registered what was happening- Adrien Agreste is hugging me in my bedroom..! but she suddenly felt years older than the girl who drooled over his pictures and stuttered in front of him.

"You're parents told me what happened. I'm so sorry, Marinette." Adrien spoke into her damp hair, the fresh scent of her shampoo strong in his nose.

She took a shaky deep breath, smelling the rink on his wool sweater and his smell underneath it, warm and comforting and familiar after so many practices. She said something into his shoulder.

"What?" he pulled back to hear her.

"Thank you for…everything." She chewed her lip a little bit. "I'm sorry this is such a mess." Her voice was bitter. "You didn't sign up for this kind of drama." She looked down.

Adrien lifted her chin gently to look at him. "Please don't apologize, Mari. Skating with you has been so wonderful, and the more I learn about that.. that jackass," he growled the word, "the more amazed I am that you set foot on the ice again. There are not many people brave or strong enough to do that."

Marinette gazed up at him, and a flicker of warmth curled in her stomach.

"And I—if I, I mean.." Adrien struggled to find the words. "I'm sorry if I crossed a line tonight..w-with the kiss." His eyes were apologetic. "I wasn't thinking and I don't have an.." –his face blazed with anger- "an agenda."

Another unwelcome tear popped out onto Marinette's cheek and she wiped it away angrily. She just wanted to stop crying, but the lump in her throat wouldn't go away. She swallowed and tried to find her voice.

"I-I know. And I'm sorry I r-ran away!" she hiccupped, covering her face with her hands. Her shoulders jumped with sobs, and she swayed a little. Adrien caught her elbow as she sat abruptly on the floor.

"It's ok, I understa-," Adrien said, but Marinette raised her tear-stained face from her hands and cut him off, eyes blazing.

"No, you don't understand!" she cried, full of hot, sickening anger. "He made me hold poses until I was shaking to see if I 'loved him enough.' He told me he would kiss me if we did well but then blamed me for all the technical losses. When he slacked off on practice he told me I was just mad that he was better than me. He told me I was crazy and overthinking it when I didn't want to skimp 3 months of training to compete early." She breathed hard, her face twisted with pain. "He said—" she shuddered, gripping her ankles, "he said 'all I do is love you and you don't t-trust me!'" Marinette rocked forward and back, words spilling out. "And then he would be so nice, and give me f-flowers and make it impossible for me to tell anyone, especially Alain, because he said Alain was jealous of us and didn't want us to w-win!" Her voice cracked again and she bent over her crossed legs, sobbing with her forehead pressed to the floor.

Adrien trembled with fury and disgust. He had never seen someone so wretched, nor known such an insidious evil. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, trying to steady himself, resisting the urge to unleash Chat Noir upon Michel for the 100th time that night.

Marinette slowly quieted, finally run out of tears, finally honest about the real torture of the encounter, finally numb. She sat up, and her bloodshot eyes fluttered with tiredness, her shoulders slumped. Adrien reached out a hand to steady her, concern replacing some of his boiling anger.

"Do you want to just sleep, Mari?"

She nodded weakly. He knelt next to her and she let him put her arms around his neck and lift her to her feet, helping her to her day bed, pulling back the covers so she could climb in, just noticing that she was wearing the shirt he had given her to dry her eyes. His heart squeezed with an unfamiliar longing.

Marinette snuggled into the blankets and caught his hand as he tucked her in. She felt herself falling asleep, grateful to escape into warm darkness. Exhaustion was heavy in her bones, her eyes were too sore from crying to open, but her heart was full of gratitude for Adrien's presence, and she had no more walls to hide behind. She clutched his hand and pulled the covers from her chin. A tiny, feeble smile curled her lips.

"19 times, Adrien…" she muttered sleepily.

He was kneeling by her bed, face level with hers.

"What?" The last thing he expected was a smile.

"I already…liked..you.." she was drifting away, but still gave a tiny giggle. "..you..pictures..so handsome.."

Adrien was puzzled, until he looked around and blushed. There he was, staring out of magazine pages stuck to her walls. His chest felt warm. Looking down again, he saw that she was sleeping, still holding his hand. He leaned down and gently kissed her forehead, moving his hand to touch her hair.

From somewhere far away, Marinette heard a soothing voice.

"Sweet dreams, Princess."

…..

With a last look at her, Adrien turned off the light and let the trapdoor down gently on his way down the stairs.

When he saw the dinner table, his heart squeezed with longing once again. There were candles lit, plates and napkins and silverware all arranged, bread and wine and a pot of something steaming, like something from a picture book. Sabine and Tom looked up at him, faces questioning his wide-eyed silence.

He found his voice. "Mari went to sleep, she was so tired and upset." Her parents nodded.

"That's probably for the best." Sabine looked at him looking at the table. "Won't you join us for dinner? You must be starving."

Adrien started a little, suddenly realizing how hungry he was, but too overwhelmed to know what to do. "I, uhm.. but Marinette.."

Tom came over and put an arm around his shoulders. "Mari needs sleep. You need food. Let us thank you for bringing her home and taking care of her, Adrien. The bread is fresh, and Sabine makes cassoulet that could make the pope cry."

Adrien just nodded weakly and let Tom put him in a chair. A long ago memory of family dinner flickered through his mind, as his bowl was filled.