The Memoirs of Adrien Agreste Chapter 1: Sunshine, a miraculous: tales of ladybug & cat noir fanfic

Marinette's hands shook slightly while she pulled things out of his desk one at a time. Her heart ached as she caressed each object softly. His favourite pen. His phone full of pictures of their life together. His notes from work written in neatly coiled cursive. She wanted to keep it all. Every piece. Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed the growing pile. Parting with anything that kept him here with her was impossible.

In this room, it felt like he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

She was exhausted. Attempting to clean out his office was more taxing than she had hoped. The pain was still raw - he'd only been gone for a week, but it felt like forever. She was trying to keep herself busy so she wouldn't atrophy and fade away. People needed her. They always needed her.

Reaching into the deepest drawer, her hand connected with a thick book bound in soft leather wrapped tightly with a strap. Pulling it out, she frowned. It was well-worn. Something that seemed to have been important to him. Her fingers trailed slowly over the worn cover, emblazoned with his monogram, AA, in an elegant script.

Slowly, she undid the strap that sealed it closed and let the pages flop open on the desk in front of her. The smell of him hit her first - a wild, windblown smell interlaced with the soft fragrance of his favourite cologne. Closing her eyes, she bit back a sob as she breathed it in.

Watery vision greeted her as she opened them again, the image of his careful cursive swimming in front of her. Gently she turned to the first page and read the title he'd written there:

"The Memoirs of Adrien Agreste: Memories of a Miraculous Life."

She was shaking as she turned the page, blinking away the tears to see the words better.

When I decided to write these memoirs, I wasn't sure where I should start. I guess the first thought is the most common: Start at the beginning of my life and ramble through all the years. But it just doesn't seem right to start there. So, I'm going to start with one of the most important days of my life. The day the most wonderful woman in the world, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, married me.

Slamming the book closed, Marinette struggled to breathe. She couldn't do this. Not today. One last skim against the soft cover, she pushed herself away from the desk and stumbled out to the hallway. Somehow she found her way to her bedroom, falling loosely onto the mattress while sobs tore from her throat, fingers tangled in the sheets. Not today.

It was nearly a week before she dared to open the cover again, heart in her throat as she tried to read the pages again, memories flooding back.

I have no idea why she said yes to me, but who am I to question destiny? She did.

The morning of our wedding, I was a nervous wreck. Not at the thought of having her forever. Not at the thought of marriage. Not at the thought of commitment, because honestly, I'd given her everything long before then.

I was terrified that I'd pass out when she appeared. Or that I'd forget the words I was supposed to say. Or that I'd throw up all over the dress I knew she'd made herself. Nino just laughed at me. I remember that in the middle of the chaos of my insides. Nino laughing. He told me that I'd be fine. That all I had to do was remember to breathe.

I tried. I really did. And it was going great until I was standing at the front of the church and the music started. I remember chanting the mantra "Just Breathe" to myself over and over in my head while the bridesmaids all slowly made their way to the front, looking unbelievably wonderful in their soft grey flowing gowns.

When the room stood up because the bride had arrived, I'd forgotten the mantra. I couldn't see down the aisle to where I knew she was. It took every single bit of composure I had not to move from my assigned position to be able to see her. Heads were turning towards the door.

I really thought right then that I was going to do exactly what I feared. I could feel myself going light-headed. It was Nino who clapped me on the back to bring me back to earth. Maybe he saw how pale I was - I'm not really sure, but at the moment, I was thankful.

At least until Marinette appeared. I think I died because, clutching the arm of her father, was the woman I loved with all my heart. I remember it in complete clarity as I sucked in each detail.

She was wearing a red dress, and although I'd known that would be the case, I wasn't prepared for how beautiful she looked. It was her own take on a traditional Chinese qipao, starting at her neck with scarlet lace that travelled all the way to the floor over a white dress beneath, hugging every curve of her petite and wonderful body with her arms left bare. The hollow of her throat peeked out in a drop shape beneath the clasp. She carried a bouquet of bright white roses. Her hair was elaborate and beautiful, whisps cascading from their hold in silky smooth strands, her simple everyday earrings holding their place of honour in her ears. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Her bluebell eyes were what I remember in that moment - staring at me as if I was the only thing in the world. I have no idea how she could love me so much. I've always been a broken mess of a man, but she did (and does). She's like my heart beating out of my chest.

The rest of the wedding ceremony is a blur. I have vague memories of her shy blushes and slipping a ring on her finger. I remember her doing the same to me, giving me a second important ring in my life. I must have made it through the steps in the right order. I must have said the words I wanted to always say. But I don't remember.

It was her brilliant smile and radiant eyes reflecting the sunshine as it poured in the church windows, lighting her face right as I went to kiss my brand new wife, that I remember the most. She was an angel. She took my breath away.

Forty years later, she does the same. Every single day. I keep reminding myself of my wedding day mantra: "Just Breathe" -because if I stare at my beautiful wife for too long, I will forget.

We ate, we danced, we laughed, we kissed. I remember hugs from a million people and Marinette struggling to hide her giggles from me when I would make stupid puns in her ears.

While everyone else partied, we snuck away for a short time - her as Ladybug and me as Chat Noir, to run to the Eiffel Tower and stand under the moonlight as husband and wife. There was something magical about my lady in that glow. Something nearly as wondrous as her angel face in the sunshine. Those kisses were powerful.

She told me a secret too. That underneath her beautiful wedding dress she had a hidden surprise for me. Then she raced back to the reception and changed back into her gown. I remember thinking then that I needed to get her out of that dress as soon as I could. Her eyes twinkled at me for the rest of the evening.

I remember it taking forever to pry her away from the party, dragging her away from Alya who sobbed with joy. I'm sure Marinette's parents were laughing knowingly as I growled at their daughter who was enjoying her secret too much.

That secret? I probably shouldn't tell, but even now, it means almost as much as it did the day I found it. Carefully stitched into the lining of her bra was a green paw print. My symbol. Pressed right against her heart. Because she needed me that close, she said.

How does a woman like her love a man like me? I will never know.

All she could do was cry.

AUTHOR: Welcome to this new month-long story I've written for Adrien AUG-reste. I'm sorry, in advance, if this makes you cry. It's been an emotional rollercoaster to write - that's for sure. I hope you enjoy.