Chapter Two : Keep it a secret—the complete failure

Adrien watched quietly as the rays of the rising sun filtered through the curtains of his room and caressed, danced, swirled, on the naked skin of Marinette's legs. His eyes traveled up her petite silhouette, intently taking in each of her curves; sometimes exposed to his gaze, sometimes molded under his black satin sheets.

She was still sound asleep, her features peaceful, her hair spread over the soft pillow. Sun beams shimmered on them like how silver reflections rippled on the waves of a quiet ocean at low tide.

The sight of her, sleeping in his bed, was more breathtaking than any view of paradisiac beaches in Maldives if you asked him.

He slowly, tentatively reached down, the tip of his fingers brushing her calves and gingerly skimming up her left thigh.

The sensuous caress made her groan. One of her hands balled up the sheets, placing them back to cover her legs as Adrien couldn't help but muffle a laugh.

Of course he should have known better. Marinette who was always late to classes back in their Collège years… Marinette who was running outside in her pajamas… She wasn't a morning person, that much was clear.

This was the very first time he brought her back here, the first time he spent a whole night with her until the sun rose, the first time he would get to see her smile first thing in the morning (well, after probably some more grunts from an uneasy wake up)... all of which was completely new to him. New and… somehow forbidden.

Adrien hadplans. He really did. After Ladybug's countless rejections, he didn't want to fall in love anymore. He didn't want to let his heart beat to the rhythm of another and rule his reason. And he had succeeded pretty well until now, Marinette was about to get him off the road. Hence all the rules he imposed on them. On her, but also on him. Although he had been determined to follow them straight up to now, his resolve was starting to fail him as Marinette burned down everything in her path, taking his walls down, and paving his own way with desirable intentions.

He withdrew the hand still touching Marinette's thigh through the satin sheets and racked his fingers through his messy 'bed head' hair.

What had that woman done to him?

Everything was going so well, so smoothly, for the first weeks. Maybe it was the euphoria of the first times. The thrill of discovering new sensations and limits. The relief of letting hormones finally spring free. The fact that she was there to support him all the way when his father turned out to be Monarch. Or maybe it was all a lie and that, again, he should have known better than to trust his treacherous heart.

Damn beautiful blue-eyed woman!

He moved forward, his hand hovering again above Marinette's body, before taking it back. He went for a second try, his fingers ghosting close to her hair but backtracked again.

What was wrong with him?!

He got the better deal. To be that close to her and not have her. Feeling her… Breathing her… Be alone without really being. Alone with someone. Someone who cared about you. Someone who's not likely to break your heart. Someone who's not in love with you.

Adrien eventually got up from his bed, going straight to his closet. He took out some clothes, hastily dressed up, and once done, he made sure to leave the room without waking Marinette up.

He soon found himself in the centerpiece of his apartment. It wasn't a big apartment, (and it wasn't that bad; it was a change from Monarch's cold Manor). Although, it was a standard (as well as just a floor) above Alya and Nino's. The living room and dining room shared the same space and ended in an open kitchen with a countertop. He moved toward it, his fingers grazing the solid oak as memories flooded his mind.

It was around this exact spot that everything had changed.

When he had just settled in and finished unpacking his last boxes, Marinette offered to make cookies.

A welcome gift, she said…

He could take the opportunity to learn how to make them, she said…

Sweet, hot and irresistible, she said…

This was when years of pent up sexual tension had blown up like a pressure cooker (and like Adrien's oven almost did). That day, they hadn't been able to taste the cookies and almost set the apartment on fire (figuratively speaking, they did). And he could definitely confirm that Marinette was sweet, hot and irresistible. (What do you mean she was talking about the cookies in the first place?)

Adrien clenched his hands against the table and let out a heavy sigh. Well… what was done was done, and for now, they needed breakfast… and he still didn't know how to bake… not even the damn cookies so… Heading straight to the door, still careful not to make too much noise, he opened it and left his apartment.

He was a man on a mission.

A mission that didn't quite go half as expected.

"Good choice, Son. These are Marinette's favorite pastries. I'm sure she'll have a very sweet wake up with that. At least, as sweet as it can be for her." Mr. Dupain's giant body leaned over and whispered in Adrien's ear, "She's not a morning person, but I guess you already know that." Tom moved back, smiling as he grabbed the package of pistachio croissants and chocolate pecan cookies he had just wrapped for the two.

Adrien though stayed frozen on the spot. Even more frozen than the perfect pistachio icing adorning the delicious-looking croissants.

"I… I…"

Record scratch.

"Save it," Tom chuckled. "Sabine and I were 19 once." He winked knowingly before his understanding wife came to save Adrien—or he was innocent enough to believe she would.

"Can you tell Marinette that we're expecting her for dinner tonight? You're invited too," Mrs. Cheng enthused with a warm, welcoming smile. "See you later."

Now if one had to describe Adrien's walk and demeanor as he left the bakery a couple of minutes later, it would have probably been said that he looked like the witness of a deadly crash. Yet, he had simply witnessed how much the Dupain-Chengs cherished him, and how ready they were to welcome him as a member of their family.

Adrien staggered his way to Place des Vosges, reaching for his apartment located just around there. He was still a little dazed by what had just happened with Marinette's parents and didn't realize when he bumped into someone whilst opening the front door of the building.

"I'm sorry!" His mishap forced his eyes to dart up and eventually recognize a familiar silhouette.

"Good morning, sunshine. Or should I say, good moaning?" Alya's brows twitched as her signature foxy-sly grin grew wide.

Crap. Had Marinette been that vocal last night?

"Alya, please… that's… hm…" His free hand rubbed at the back of his neck before passing in front of his face and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "...kind of private."

"Well… If you both want to keep it private, you're gonna have to tell her to tone it down. Maybe you can talk to her about it over breakfast; everything always goes better with a full stomach." She looked down and pointed at the package he was holding. "Especially if you took pistachio filled croissants. These are—"

"These are Marinette's favorites, I know," he cut her off. "Thank you for your advice, Alya, but I should be fine." He patted her shoulder and put on his better smile as he walked her by. "Have a nice day."

"Adrien," Alya called after him, tone stern.

This made him stop dead in his tracks and turn around with an inquisitive look.

"If you break her heart, I'll break your bones. I'm not kidding," she warned him.

Of course, he knew she wasn't kidding. His flesh crept and his insides knotted, cold sweat running down his spine as if the girl had just thrown a bucket full of ice at him. He couldn't help but feel his whole body shudder. It was a lot to bottle up in a short time as both Marinette's parents and Alya thought they were a couple. Which they weren't.

He didn't want to be part of any sort of couple. He had given up on love, remember? No dates, no feelings, no kisses… Everything planned so he wouldn't fall into a so-called 'romantic' relationship.

Swallowing his saliva, his pride, and everything else he could, he nodded with a salute before heading to the top floor of the building, where he lived. When he reached his front door and opened it, a strong smell of coffee wafted through his nostrils straight to his taste buds. Was that what it felt like to wake up every morning with someone by your side? Soft, hot, invigorating? Wait no... that was the effect provoked by the coffee. Only the coffee effect, right?

It couldn't be because of…

Marinette.

The woman was gracefully moving in the kitchen area, reaching for mugs before grabbing the samovar and pouring the hot smelling-gorgeous beverage into the two empty cups.

Adrien's Adam apple bobbed up and down as he watched her doing so. His shirt from the day before was on Marinette's body, stopping at mid-thighs, and never had he found that his shirt looked better on someone else than him, until now. She looked absolutely breathtaking. Hence the way his breath suddenly left his lungs in a heavy 'huff', as if he had just crashed to the ground after a fall from the top of the Eiffel Tower, when his hip bumped into the corner of the kitchen counter.

A hiss passed through the seal of his lips as he leaned over the counter and plastered a fake smile on his face.

"Good morning," Marinette greeted him as she handed him the cup of coffee she'd prepared for him. "With a drop of honey, just how you like it." She smiled fondly, her gaze darting from the cup he took, to his eyes.

He looked into her eyes for a second, feeling as if losing his soul in the pool of her ocean, before he quickly glanced away. He gulped, berating himself for being so weak when it came to the feelings he strongly wanted to deny.

"Uh… Thank you for the breakfast," Marinette thanked him in a queasy voice, unease instantly settling in the room.

"Marinette," Adrien sternly called. Putting a firm hand on top of hers, he prevented her from opening the package containing the aforementioned breakfast he'd brought back. "We need to talk."

Next chapter on friday. Feel free to leave a thought about this one.

Miraculous kisses.