Love^2

Chapter 1 – Chance

Summary:

They say practice makes perfect. Or, at least that's what Adrien has always been told and Adrien wants this to be perfect.

Written for Writer's Month – Day 2: Chance

Author's Note:

This was originally going to be a one-shot (this chapter alone), but as I progressed with Writer's Month, I found that the prompts inspired a few more ML stories. As I wrote, the individual stories formed into multi-chapter single story. So, each of the prompts will be added to this story as chapters.

I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading. ~r

Adrien looked down on the streets of Paris. People bustled about below him, oblivious to their unseen observer. There was a fairy tale quality about this time of the evening. The sun had just set and the dark cover of night chased across the sky in a darkening ombré. Only a few of the brightest stars began to peek through the deepening night. He wished he was out there among the populace, but it felt impossible. His freedom was too new, too fragile. He'd spent too much of his life practically locked away in a tower, that being out without an express purpose still felt a tad overwhelming.

Besides, it wouldn't be long before it was time for patrol and he didn't want to waste this opportunity.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien allowed his vision to go a bit blurry so he could focus on his reflection rather than the streets below. He clasped his hands behind his back and stood stiffly straight. Like he was reciting a lesson or addressing his father.

No, this wasn't right. He felt too formal, too standoffish.

Okay, different pose. He clasped his hands in front. His shoulders drooped and he found his chin tucking low causing his gaze to drop. "M'lady, I…"

No. That wouldn't do either. Now it felt like he was closing himself off. Or, waiting for a punishment. He didn't want that either.

Adrien twisted his fingers in knots. He didn't know what to do with his hands. Things were so much easier when he was modeling. They told him how to stand, how to move, what he was supposed to be feeling, and he didn't need to figure it out on his own.

Maybe he could give her a flower. Not a rose, of course. If he had a prop, his hands would be busy… No. She's just brush him off without hearing him through.

All right, he'd worry about his hands later. For now he tucked them into his pockets. Too bad his Chat Noir costume didn't have any pockets. Taking another deep breath, Adrien started again.

"M'lady, I want to talk to you about something important. To me…and I hope, to you as well. Eventually." He cleared his throat. It was awkward, but he refused to let his own nerves get the better of him. He was out of time. "We've been friends…partners…for a long time. We make a great team. You're very important to me.

"You gave me the courage to get out of a bad situation. Yeah, the one you didn't want me to give you details about. Things in my life are getting better. So, thank you for that."

He swallowed hard. Why was this so difficult? Because it was her. Because she'd rebuffed him so many times. Because he was laying his heart on the line. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he supposed.

Okay, back to the topic at hand. "I don't know if you remember what today is. I mean, it probably wasn't significant to you, but to me…. Well, I tried to do as you asked. Really. I tried to move on….

"No, wait, let me try that again. I know you had—have?—feelings for someone else. And you asked me to stop declaring my love for you. To wait. You said I should wait five years and see if my feelings changed, if the situation changed. It's been five years."

He tried to grin, but even without the mask his reflection appeared more feral than heartthrob. Screwing up his face, he allowed his muscled to relax and offered up a smile which was more Adrien than Chat Noir. (We're the same person, he reminded himself. Chat Noir might be the side of him that didn't fear censure, the side of him who was free to be who he wanted to be. But, the kind, soft-spoken boy was also part of him. He didn't need to be exuberant all the time.) He studied his reflection. The gentle smile was good. It softened his eyes and allowed an open honesty to shine through. Would she be able to see it through the mask and his cat-like pupils?

Backing up a little bit, he tried again. He imagined reaching out and touching her shoulder, maybe cupping her cheek, or brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It's been five years since we had that discussion and my feelings haven't changed. I still love you. I love you more now than when I first fell in love with you. I hope you might give me a chance. See if you might develop feelings for me.

"I know you're tentative about revealing our identities. I understand." That part wasn't absolutely true. He understood in theory, but felt it might be a bit extreme. Still, he wouldn't push that point. "Mask or no mask, you know me better than anyone else. I feel like it might be the same for you. That is—I know you better than anyone else. So, I'm wondering. Will you please…will you be my girlfriend?"

The silence stretched to awkward lengths. Of course there was no one to answer. He was only practicing with his reflection—again. But, tonight was the night. The five year marker had passed and if there wasn't an akuma attack tonight, he wanted to confess to Ladybug.

Turning to Plagg, Adrien held out his hands and offered his kwami a hopeful smile. "How was that? Do you think I have a chance?"

Plagg scarcely bothered to look up from his cheese. "Nah."

"Plagg…" Adrien groaned in frustration as he flopped back on the couch. The cushions sank a bit more than he was used to and creaked ominously at the sudden addition of his weight. It wasn't nearly as nice as the furniture which had filled his room at his father's house, but this apartment with its second-hand furniture and thrift store furnishings was all his own with no strings attached. "What was wrong with it this time?"

"Still too cheesy. And that's saying something coming from me." The kwami popped a piece of cheese the size of his body into his mouth. His cheek puffed out like a chipmunk's as he chewed.

"It's no more cheesy than when you wax lyrical about camembert." Adrien ran his hands through his hair. It looked a bit more like Chat Noir whenever he did that.

"Well, that's the difference. Cheese likes it when you're sappy about it. It melts its gooey insides and makes it all the more delicious." Plagg sniffed at the next piece of cheese before gulping it down in a single bite. His voice was muffled as he continued to pontificate. "Girls are mysteries. You can't just smell them and know the quality…"

"Never mind." Adrien shook his head and tuned out the rest of Plagg's explanation. Why was he trying to get love advice from the kwami of destruction? Even though Plagg continually tried his patience, Adrien was exceptionally found of the little guy. He couldn't imagine where his life would be without Plagg at his side. Before he could get to mushy about his companion, he glance over at the table. Plagg laid on his back, his hands resting on his belly as he napped.

Oh well, maybe he should try his speech again. This time without the peanut gallery. Practicing what he was going to say to Ladybug reminded him of the time Marinette had asked him to be a stand in for 'Buttercup' as she practiced her own love confession. He often wondered about whatever happened with that. Except, he wasn't suppose to know about that as Adrien and she stuttered and blushed when Chat Noir had brought it up. He eventually let the subject drop.

"Oh!" The memory gave him an idea. Pulling out his phone, Adrien checked the time. He had enough time before patrol to make the call. Dialing the number from memory, he held the phone to his ear and waited for her to pick up.

"Hi, Marinette, Do you have some time? Remember when I told you about that girl I like? I plan on talking to her tonight and I'm a bit nervous. Do you think maybe we could talk through it…"