Chapter 7

Adrien's feet thudded on each step of the staircase. For the last year and a half, school had been his favorite place. Not today. Today, he just wanted to hide.

He pushed the door to the classroom open and forced himself to look up. Of course, the seat next to his was empty. Nino had sent him a string of frantic texts Saturday night, but seeing the seat vacant made his friend's absence real. Adrien's eyes slid up to the next row of seats, which were also empty. Wait—Alya was gone, yes, but where was Marinette? Panicking, Adrien searched the classroom and felt a jolt of relief when he saw the familiar black pigtails in the back of the room. Her arms were wrapped around a trembling body. Marinette released her friend, and Juleka's face retracted from Marinette's shoulder. That's right—Luka had left as well. Adrien swallowed and made his way to the back of the classroom.

"Hey, Juleka," he tried, patting her shoulder. She sobbed. He nearly said something about Luka, but then remembered that he was currently sans-mask. Adrien wouldn't know anything about the abrupt exodus of her brother. "Everything ok?"

Marinette shook her head.

"He… he just left! There was a short note saying he loved us, but that was all! I… I don't know what I did wrong!" Marinette mouthed 'Luka' to Adrien who feigned surprise.

"You didn't do anything wrong, I'm sure," Adrien consoled. "I… I saw on the news some of the akuma attack. It looks like your brother is a true hero. I'm sure whatever he left to do was for the safety of himself and everyone around him."

She sniffled and nodded, but she still shook. "Still, I'm so worried about him."

"I know," Marinette crooned. How did she get her voice to hold so much love? "I am too. It's going to be alright, though. Luka's one of the bravest, strongest men I know."

Juleka nodded. "You're right. He is. Oh," she hiccuped, stifling a laugh, "Claire's going to be so mad. He left her behind." Marinette suddenly burst out laughing.

Adrien raised an eyebrow. "Claire… his girlfriend?"

Marinette shook her head, "No, his guitar."

"Oh…" Adrien tried to laugh along, not getting why it was funny, but eager to support Juleka and fit in with the conversation. The two girls just rolled their eyes and giggled together. Adrien noticed Marinette's shoulders relax as Juleka started laughing. The danger had passed.

"Hey, Jules, I've got a proposal for you, but you can say no if you're not comfortable with it, ok?" Marinette started, walking Juleka slowly to her seat.

"Uh, sure, what is it?" Juleka responded, wiping her tears away.

"Adrien's Father is having another fashion contest, and I'm looking for a female model to demo the counterpart to the male model I've already procured." Marinette gave a questioning look to Adrien, who nodded.

"Yeah, you should see her designs; they're fantastic," he added helpfully.

"Oh, uh… maybe, yeah. You're the male model, Adrien?"

He nodded proudly. "It would be an honor to work with you again."

"What exactly would this job entail?"

"Well," Marinette started, "the theme of the competition is shoes. I have the male pair already made and am in the process of finishing the female counterpart. I'd like to have some professional photographs done."

"And when they win," Adrien winked at Marinette, "there's a runway show, but that would be totally up to you if you want to participate."

Juleka ruminated over it. "Y-yeah, I think that would be good," she stammered.

Marinette's face filled with light. "Really? That'd be so great!"

Juleka squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. "Luka told me to keep trying, even when I was afraid. I want to do it. For him."

Marinette hugged her friend. "Yeah. For him."

Adrien smiled and waved for the cameras, then turned and gestured toward Marinette. She looked like she was trying to shrink into the ground—and may have been successful if he hadn't insisted that everyone look at her. But this was her day, and he wasn't going to steal her spotlight.

It was not shocking in the slightest that Marinette's shoes blew away the competition. The only thing that had surprised Adrien was that his father had come to the runway show in person after making a public statement that he was going to support his son. Yet, when Adrien had rounded the corner and took the runway in his bright green shoes, it was Marinette's shining face that caught his eye. Not wanting to let his father's white suit outshine the amazing shoes, he'd glided down the runway, paused at the end to pose, then hunched his shoulders and did the moonwalk for several meters before spinning and landing on his toes just like Michael Jackson. The crowd went wild. Adrien winked at beet-red Marinette before marching dutifully back to the dressing room. Juleka's turn on the runway in her red and black spotted sport shoes had been equally successful. She moved with a grace and elegance that was born, not learned. Adrien had connected Juleka with his favorite agent at the end of the show, who whisked her away to discuss further training and to field offers. However, Marinette's Chat Noir and Ladybug-inspired shoes were the talk of the town. Adrien's father mentioned something about including them in the summer athletics line and the media had gone wild. The final part of the prize package for the designer—and the thing Adrien was most excited about—was still ahead—or rather, above them.

"Come on, Marinette, I'll be right there with you the whole time."

She gnawed on her lip so continuously that Adrien feared it might start to bleed. He reached out to her. She glared at his ring-clad hand, but slowly her eyes traced up his arm, across his shoulder, and to his face. Her mouth formed that surprised little "o" and her eyes opened wider, just like the day he'd offered her his umbrella—the day he had first counted her among his friends.

Oh, that day, Adrien remembered with a start, and Nino's voice floated into his mind from a distance: "I think she first fell for you when you offered you her umbrella. At least, that's what Alya said. To be honest, I noticed it too. How could I not? I've known Marinette since we were little. She was a fiery kid. But she's always been different around you. Not the first day you arrived, no, but the umbrella… the umbrella did her in, man."

Adrien's indignation at this revelation had been instant: "You mean she was in love with me from practically the day we met? And you never said a word?"

"Well, I was sworn to secrecy. Trust me, if you'd been in my position, you wouldn't have said anything either."

The memory of the moment with Nino ached inside him, but he tried to focus on the here and now. Now he was holding out his hand, much like he had that day with the umbrella. Marinette was looking at him, much like she had then. Was she remembering the same moment he was? Was she feeling her stomach bunch up in knots, just like he was? Were other memories—memories of "lucky charm" bracelets, video games, sneaking into movie theaters with a towel on her head, filming Nino's ridiculous "project", jumping into a swimming pool filled with white balls—flashing through her mind right now as well? Surely those memories could not be the same as his. His were pointed with whisking egg whites for macarons, holding her to him as he used Chat Noir's baton to vault them over buildings, playing the piano with her, and the warmth of her hand in his as she reassured him that everything was going to be ok. Those, after all, were Chat Noir's memories. He suddenly felt a bit of a thief—stealing moments from her that only he knew were his…

It was only a second that Adrien stood there, hand outstretched toward her, before she smiled and her tiny, soft fingers slipped into his. Adrien shook his head to clear the onslaught of memories and refocused yet again. Marinette squared her shoulders and waved for the cameras before she and Adrien climbed into the basket of the hot air balloon that would be their mode of transportation for the afternoon.

The operator gave them some instructions and Marinette gripped the side of the basket as the balloon took off. Adrien couldn't help but watch her. He'd seen Paris from above before. Marinette, though, Marinette was something new.

She enthusiastically pointed out her favorite landmarks as the balloon followed the current. The photographer snapped some pictures, but mostly let them talk. Adrien couldn't recall everything he said. Once they were at their cruising altitude, the four people in the basket relaxed and enjoyed the sensation of being one with the wind. Marinette leaned a little closer to Adrien and his heartrate accelerated. "It's so beautiful from up here, isn't it," she said softly.

"Yeah, you are," he responded.

She blushed and turned wide blue eyes on him. "What did you say?"

He thought about backpedaling but didn't want to. He meant exactly what he said. He simply smirked instead and turned to watch the city below him.

The operator lied. They'd promised him a four-hour ride in the hot air balloon, and that couldn't have been more than twenty minutes.

Marinette was all charm and grace. She shook hands with the photographer and the balloon operator after they landed. Adrien numbly followed suit. Had she always been that poised? He chuckled to himself as he remembered watching her stumble over air or standing in a pie. How far she had come! He hopped out of the basket and held out his arm to steady her as she climbed out. She had one leg over the edge of the basket when she looked up at him and he flashed his widest Chat Noir smile at her. It was as if her bones melted. Adrien barely caught her before she faceplanted into the ground. There she is. There's my Marinette.

"Whoa there, steady," he hummed. She giggled.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I'm such a klutz."

He winked, and whispered, "But an adorable one." She had no time to recover from that line when he cleared his throat, loudly thanked the operator and photographers for their time, and escorted Marinette over to the limousine waiting for them. As soon as the car door shut, Marinette squirmed in her seat. Finally, they were alone.

"That was super fun, wasn't it?" he grinned.

She nodded enthusiastically, then looked out the window. Something was off.

"I really enjoyed myself, didn't you?" Adrien tried again, smile starting to wane.

"Oh yes," she said, a little too intensely. "Um, would you mind taking me home?" she requested of the driver, who shrugged and started the engine, shutting the partition to the back as he now had his orders.

Adrien slumped back a bit. He'd really thought the electricity he'd felt all afternoon was mutual. One more shot. "What was your favorite part? I loved getting away from the city and seeing all the beautiful fall colors…"

She smiled a little too widely and nodded.

He rubbed the back of his neck in defeat. "Look, Marinette, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you got dragged into all that media fiasco and publicity and stuff. I hate it when my dad makes me do those things, and I'm sorry you had to put up with me all day and—"
"Wait, what? Adrien?"

He cleared his throat and looked at her properly. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable? No way, I loved it!"

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

She was wriggling in her seat. Her eyebrows pinched together. "It's just…"

"Marinette, what?"

"I really need to pee!"

Adrien almost cracked a rib; he was laughing so hard. Still, he knocked on the partition, the driver lowered it, and he ordered, "Please pick up the pace."

Marinette had been, was, and forever would be better than Adrien at video games. However, he loved playing with her, and felt like it was the least he could offer. Watching her race in the house to the bathroom hardly seemed like a fair way to end their very public date. Besides, he had one more surprise up his sleeve that he was anxious to pull. He set up the game, thanked Sabine for the orange juice she'd prepared, and settled on the couch to accept his beating. Marinette grinned and curled up next to him.

"I brought a new game," he grinned.

"Really? What is it?"

Adrien nodded toward the television, and when Marinette saw the start menu flashing "Tech Racer 2.0," she squealed. "How did you…holy cow… what?" He grinned. That was just the response he was hoping for. "But it hasn't even been released yet!"

He ran his fingers through his hair, yawned noisily, then smirked, "Finally, a game that Marinette hasn't beaten seven times over. We'll be on even ground."

She playfully punched his shoulder. He giggled and rubbed the pretend-wound, then used the built in-excuse to stretch his arm and drape it around Marinette's shoulders. She tensed slightly, then relaxed into his side. She picked up her controller and started the game. Adrien pulled her closer so that he could hold his controller and not have to pull his arm back from her. Her hair tickled his cheek and his cheeks warmed. Had she always smelled so good?

Adrien had been sure he could take at least a few of the first rounds they played, but he was wrong. Marinette had never played the game before and she still whooped him. On the third race, his competitive nature kicked into overdrive. He sat up, pulled his arm away from her waist, and hammered the controller. She gave him a wicked side-glance, then pulled her knees up to her chin and barely twitched as her vehicle glided around the obstacles on the screen. Adrien swerved and dodged, muscles tensing involuntarily. He groaned and exclaimed passionately throughout the race. Marinette was silent. Three intense laps later, Marinette's motorcyclist popped a wheelie as it crossed the finish line, while Adrien's hot rod flipped off the road and tumbled down the side of a pixelated mountain.

"How do you do that?" he moaned, after the spectacular defeat.

"Do what?" she giggled innocently, putting down her controller to take a sip of orange juice.

"I had to call in favors in three countries and do two extra photo shoots for the Gabriel Tokyo magazine just to get my hands on a game that I could guarantee you hadn't played before. I've been practicing for days. You just… destroyed me." His lower lip poked out in a pout, but his eyes were still twinkling.

She fluttered her eyelashes, "Oh, I'm sorry Monsieur Agreste, I wasn't aware that your ego was so fragile. I'll go easy on you this time, I promise."

His nose wrinkled. "No you don't. If I'd wanted you to pander to me, I would've played with Chloe. You go on, keep beating me fair and square. It drives me to be better, and heaven knows I don't need to be handed any more mercy wins."

She genuinely blushed and the controller slipped from her fingers. "Uh, wow. That was… really nice of you to say."

Now Adrien was blushing. He hadn't meant it as a compliment; it was just the truth. He tried to shrug off the heat that was burning his ears. "I just mean, I like that you don't hold back. I'm awestruck at your skill, of course—but you should never feel like you have to be something less than the amazing person you are."

Adrien could see the goosebumps that raced up her arms and lifted the hair on the back of her neck. Her cheeks were red, her eyes were wide, and her lips trembled. "Adrien, thank you," she whispered. She didn't drop eye contact.

Adrien had kissed Marinette's silky lips before, why was his heart hammering out of his chest like this? No, he reminded himself firmly, Chat Noir has kissed Marinette. He moved very deliberately, giving her ample time to pull back, and glided his thumb across her jaw. She shivered more violently but maintained eye contact. Her gaze was so determined, so blue, and yet so caring. His left hand took her tiny fingers in his. He leaned toward her, feeling her rapid pulse under his knuckles and her breath danced across his chin. Her eyes fluttered shut and he took that as permission. He closed the distance between them—lips brushing softly together in a spine-tingling moment. He kissed her again, a little stronger now, and she slipped a hand to his chest. He inhaled and was overwhelmed by everything Marinette—her scent, the taste of her lips, the heat from her fingers—

His phone buzzed. She jerked backward. The air between them was like ice. He caught her hand and held it. "Sorry," she apologized, "just… your phone…"

He frowned, but knowing he was still technically on the company's schedule, pulled out his phone and checked his messages. Marinette patiently fiddled with a pigtail while he read through the string of texts from Nathalie. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack.

"Adrien? Is everything alright?"

"Y-yeah. It's… It's my Father. Nathalie says he wants to have dinner tonight and he's planning some other things tomorrow… I'm supposed to get home right away."

Marinette smiled with him. "Wow, that's exciting!"

"Sorry to cut our date short, Marinette, but I've got to go—"

She caressed his cheek. "Of course, go!"

He squeezed her hand. "I'll call you tonight?"

She nodded. "Have a great time."

Adrien ran all the way home, not even bothering to wait for his bodyguard to bring the car to Marinette's front step.