Chapter Seven – Two Rooms, Three Beds
Marinette watches with wide eyes as Gabriel argues with the hotel receptionist in Italian. She doesn't understand a word, but she almost doesn't have to. Clearly Gabriel is upset, and clearly the young man behind the counter is flustered and unsure of what to do, and clearly Adrien is ready for the ground to open up and swallow him whole as Gabriel's confrontation with the innocent receptionist draws the attention of everyone in the lobby. And there's a few people in the lobby, from the doorman, to security, to other people trying to get checked in, to the bellhops.
"What's going on?" Marinette asks Adrien quietly.
He shrugs, leaning more fully against her side and letting his head rest against hers, travel exhaustion making his eyes heavy despite the fact that the plan ride was less than two hours. "Dunno."
"Nathalie?" Marinette asks, turning to the women sitting beside her.
Nathalie also shrugs, keeping her gaze on Gabriel with an unimpressed (and highly annoyed) expression marking her features. "I barely know enough Italian to hold a simple 'hi, how are you?' conversation. Whatever Gabe's saying is going right over my head." She accompanies that sentence with the movement of her hand illustrating her point, and Marinette smiles.
"Questo è ridicolo!" Gabriel exclaims, throwing his hands in the air as he marches away from the reception desk, his face like thunder. "Ho chiesto tre camere e tre letti, non–"
"Gabe, you're speaking Italiano." Nathalie cuts in, earning a giggle from the kids and an exasperated look from Gabriel.
"How many rooms did we book?" Gabriel asks (demands), causing Nathalie to frown and immediately pull out her tablet.
Marinette and Adrien share a look before focusing on the adults, trying to figure out what the problem is, and what is has to do with the number of rooms.
"Three." Nathalie replies after a moment. "Why?"
Gabriel inhales a deep breath, hands on his hips, and says through clenched teeth. "They've given us two rooms, with three beds. Not three rooms, three beds."
"What does that mean?" Adrien asks, pushing himself off Marinette's shoulder to look his father in the eye. "Do they have to move us to another room?"
"That's the problem. There are no three bedroom rooms left. Apparently we're lucky to have gotten three beds in the first place. The only rooms left have two bedrooms with three beds, or two with two, or one with–"
"I think we get it." Nathalie says, standing up and rubbing Gabriel's arm soothingly, trying to calm him down. "Well, if there's three there will at least be enough for the kids to have their own beds."
"But not their own rooms, which I reassured Marinette's parents there would be!" Gabriel groans and drops onto the section of the couch Nathalie just vacated, dropping his head into his hands.
Nathalie crouches in front of him, hand on his knee. "Would you like me to give the Dupain–Cheng's a call and explain the situation?"
"I'm sure they'll be understanding." Marinette adds, smiling at Gabriel reassuringly when he lifts his head from his hands. "It's not like you lied to them, the hotel just doesn't have the room you requested."
"Yeah, it's no big deal." Adrien chimes in, shuffling forward on the couch cushion to look past Marinette and see Gabriel. "Like you said, there's two beds, so–"
"Why don't you and Marinette call her parents." Gabriel says to Nathalie, who instantly nods and steps back, allowing Gabriel to stand up. "Adrien and I . . . Adrien and I are going to go for a walk."
"A walk?" Adrien asks, raising an eyebrow. Since when does Gabriel Agreste walk?
"Yes. We can get some fresh air. Stretch our legs. Come on." He holds a hand out to his son, and when Adrien doesn't take it, he reaches down and pulls him to his feet, putting that hand on his shoulder to guide him out of the hotel lobby and onto the footpath.
"Dad?" Adrien questions, raising an eyebrow at the still ticked–off man walking beside him.
"Did you remember what I gave you?" Gabriel asks, already knowing the answer – after all, despite Adrien's best efforts at hiding the box under everything in his suitcase, Nathalie did see it when she checked to make sure he had everything earlier this morning.
Adrien frowns, confused, before realisation smacks him in the face and his cheeks instantly flush. He stares at the footpath under their feet and mutters an embarrassed 'yes'.
"Good. And you remember what we talked about?" A nod. "Then you understand why I'm not exactly thrilled that you and Marinette will be sharing a room?" Gabriel gives his child a pointed look.
Adrien's cheeks flush darker, but he manages a glare. "And do you remember what I said?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you bringing it up?" He crosses his arms over his chest defensively, watching as Gabriel pauses to peruse the menu of the restaurant they have stopped at.
"To check your eagerness to be sharing a room with Marinette is because she's your friend, and not because you're interested in using the contents of the box." Before Adrien can get too flustered, he once again puts a hand on Adrien's shoulder and guides him back to the hotel entrance, figuring that their walk has given Nathalie enough time to notify the Dupain–Cheng's of the bedroom number change.
Sure enough, when they enter through the door – with Adrien nodding a thanks to the doorman who opened it for them – Marinette is just finishing wrapping up the phone call while Nathalie collects their room keys. A short elevator ride later, and they stumble through the door of the hotel room, moving out of the entryway quickly to let the bellhops put their suitcases in their rooms.
Marinette looks around the lavish hotel room in awe. On the left–hand side of the hotel room is her and Adrien's room and en suite, then in the middle is the main living space with a small but high–end kitchen, dining table and lounge room made up of a cream coloured leather sectional couch and two recliner armchairs. On the right–hand side of the room is the master bedroom and bathroom. All three rooms have access to privet balconies that looks out over the sunset and down into the hotel pool below. It is, without a doubt, the most expensive room she's ever stepped foot in.
"Wow," She says, turning around to take it all in.
Adrien grins, amused at her antics, and follows her over to the glass doors in the living area that go out to the main balcony. "Fancy, huh?"
"Definitely." Marinette breathes, keeping her gaze on the view in front of them. Even without going outside it's still incredible.
"I'm glad you like it." Gabriel calls from behind them, and they turn around to see him leaning against the kitchen island, looking at something on Nathalie's tablet while she explores the kitchen to see what they have to work with (and to find the kettle because, even though there is no time difference between Milan and Paris, travelling is still tiring. As is waking up before five in the morning to get ready). "Oh good, Francesco says he can meet me for lunch for a quick designer–to–designer meeting before dinner tonight." He holds the tablet out to Nathalie so she can read the rest of the details in the message sent from Francesco's assistant.
"Does he mean Francesco Risso?" Marinette asks Adrien quietly as he leads them past the adults and into the room, recognising that they've begun to shift into work mode.
Adrien nods, surprised, before he remembers who he's talking to. Of course she'd know who Francesco is. "Yeah. He and Dad go pretty far back. He first met him when he was about our age before he went away to some design school–"
"Polimoda."
"Right. Dad was working with his grandma at the time, and Francesco was learning from her and Dad was intrigued, to say the least." He shrugs, not really remembering the rest of the story – he found it pretty boring when his father told it to him a couple of years earlier – but he makes a mental note to bring it up at one point so Marinette can hear the whole tale from the direct source.
"That's pretty . . . cool." Marinette says, voice trailing off as she takes in their room.
The room itself is a rectangle, with the long wall opposite the door decorated with violet marble–type wallpaper that matches the colour of the sheets on both queen size beds sitting in front of it. The beds are lined with a bedside table on either side, with one separating the beds and housing a lamp, alarm clock and phone that connect to the hotel so they can order room service and other amenities, such as a wake–up call, (and probably, as this is the case with most hotels Marinette has visited, has a bible in the top draw). On the wall directly across from the beds, beside the bedroom door, is a wall mounted television with a small entertainment system underneath it, housing a DVD player and a set–top box. On the far right of the room there are glass doors that lead out to their little privet balcony, and directly across from that is their en suite, complete with a spar bath. A SPAR BATH.
"Wow." Marinette says again, looking over her shoulder at Adrien. "This room alone is bigger than the hotels Mum, Dad and I have stayed in before."
Adrien hums, moving past her to flop down on one of the two beds, staring up at the ceiling above them. "Yeah."
"At least we won't be on top of each other." Marinette comments, spotting her suitcase and immediately going over to it. She lifts it onto the other bed – the one closer to the doors – and unzips it.
Adrien pushes himself up onto his elbows to look at her, his cheeks flushing at the innuendo that Marinette's innocent words could be mistaken for, and he clears his throat awkwardly, trying not to think about the box hidden at the very bottom of his suitcase. "Y–Yeah, that is a good thing."
She nods absentmindedly, busy pulling her dresses out of the suitcase to hang them up – so they don't wrinkle – before moving the rest of her folded clothes to the bedside table draws in between her bed and the doors. Once that's done, she flops down on her own bed and releases a sigh.
"I'm tired."
Adrien giggles, flipping over to lay on his stomach, his feet hanging off the end of his bed. "Same."
They lapse into comfortable silence, both feeling the exhaustion of travelling settle into their bones, and just as Adrien's eyes begin to drift shut, Marinette suddenly gasps and sits upright, which startles him so much he almost jumps off his bed. She looks at him, expression panicked, and waves her arms about her frantically, eyes shooting to their partially open bedroom door and back to him – or maybe the bathroom? – as a high–pitched whine escapes her throat.
Adrien stares at her, confused, before hissing, "What?"
A garbled noise leaves her as she jumps to her feet – now pointing at the bedroom door, then him, then the bathroom – and he sits back up to watch her pace in front of their beds, scratching the back of his head. He feels Plagg shift in his shirt pocket, and then the kwami sticks his head out and gives Adrien a pointed look.
"Kaalki," He says, giving his holder a deadpanned expression. When Adrien still doesn't put the pieces together, he rolls his eyes and darts over to Marinette, waving his hands in front of her face to get her to stop moving.
Adrien watches as he says something to Marinette quietly. Whatever it is, it manages to calm her down, and she smiles and nods, reaching into her handbag. It's only when she pulls out the horse Miraculous that it clicks in Adrien's head and then he's the one wide–eyed and pointing.
"You're both idiots." Plagg grumbles, earning him a smack on the back of his head from Tikki, before she pulls him over to the bedside table in between their beds. The phase through the top draw, and Marinette and Adrien smile at each other when they hear Plagg complaining about there being no cheese inside.
"Do you think now's a good time?" Marinette whispers, fiddling with the glasses nervously.
Adrien leans to the side to peer through the doorway, but all he can see is the hallway leading to the entryway. He can't hear Nathalie or his father talking either, so he guesses they may have gone into their own room.
"Maybe we should wait for Dad to leave for lunch?" He says quietly, looking back at Marinette. "I know it won't take you long, but I don't really want to run the risk of M–Nathalie or Dad wanting to speak to you and having to wait for you to . . . teleport back?"
Marinette shrugs. "Voyaging?"
"Whatever it's called, I think it would be best to wait a little longer. Maybe even go tonight when they're asleep."
Marinette mulls it over, moving to sit next to him on the end of his bed. "I don't know how I feel about leaving it that late. I know that I leave it alone during the day for several hours, but at least I'm always in Paris and not a completely different country."
Adrien nods in understanding, slipping his hand over hers and squeezing in reassurance. "I know, milady. It feels weird for me too."
Marinette hesitates for another moment, before putting the horse Miraculous back in her bag. "I'll see how the day plays out. If we have the afternoon to relax here, then I'll go. If not, I'll go tonight."
"Sounds like a plan." Grinning, he holds his fist out to her. "Pound it?"
"Pound it." She says, giggling as she knocks her fist against his. Not a second later they hear footsteps in the hallway and look up to see Nathalie heading towards them.
"Hey kiddies," She says, pushing their door fully open. "Ooh, your room looks nice." She comments, looking around.
"How does yours look?" Adrien asks, absentmindedly stroking his thumb over the back of Marinette's hand.
"It's nice. Very similar to yours." She enters the room and sits on the edge of Marinette's bed.
The kids turn around to face her, with Adrien kicking his shoes off to pull his feet onto the bed as he's sitting slightly behind Marinette. The movement makes him have to release her hand, and Nathalie eyes the movement but doesn't comment.
"Gabe's still fuming over the room issue," She says with an eyeroll. "but I've made him a cup of tea so hopefully he'll calm down soon. He'll be having lunch with Francesco at one, and tonight the four of us have a dinner to go to with some other designers who have come in for the week. It will give us a chance to meet everyone–"
"And check each other out." Adrien says, remembering form the years prior. There's always a bit of slightly–less–than–friendly competition at the fashion weeks between the designers, and he's positive this year will be of no exception.
Nathalie nods. "Right." Another eyeroll. "I'm not sure what food they'll be serving, if they'll be serving anything other than drinks and snacks, so I suggest having something before we go." She smirks and leans towards them playfully, as if what she's about to tell them is a big secret. "You might even be able to get ice cream afterwards." She whispers, and the kids beam at each other. "For now though," She continues, sitting back up straight. "You have the rest of the day free to explore or relax. I'd like us all to start getting ready at about four, so you have a couple of hours to yourselves."
"Cool. Thank you, Nathalie." Marinette says, while Adrien smiles at her.
"Are you going to lunch with Father and Francesco?"
Nathalie shakes her head, standing up. "No. I've received some emails from some reporters who want to interview your father, and there are still some details I have to work out for the Paris Fashion show when we get back, so I'll be working for most of today." She smiles at them as she moves towards the door. "I'm going to be in our bedroom, so if you need me just sing out or come find me. And tell me if you're going to be leaving the hotel room. Gabe will tell you when he's leaving too, and if he doesn't, I give you permission to spam his phone." She winks at them before pulling the door to so it's still open but gives them a bit of privacy to talk amongst themselves without being overheard quite so much.
Adrien smiles a very Cat Noir smile and Marinette groans, moving from his bed to hers so she can lay down.
"You're hoping Gabriel doesn't tell us now so you can bombard his phone with emojis, aren't you?"
"No, of course not, I would never do that." Adrien says, smiling innocently.
Marinette rolls her eyes. "It's your funeral."
"And I will greatly enjoy it."