A/N: Shit's about to go DOWN.
Adrien was laying in his bed, his hands behind his head and his legs sprawled out lazily. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't quite find sleep. His father's words from the week before rang in his ears.
He had spoken to him after dinner, and after Marinette had sleepily stumbled back to her apartment. Adrien insisted on walking her to her door every time, even if it was only a few feet away. On nights when she wasn't so tired, she usually swooned dramatically at the gesture, calling him her hero, her prince, her knight in shining armor.
Yes, she was totally joking. Yes, it still made his heart skip a beat every time.
It was when he got back, closing the door behind him, that his father said it.
"She's special, son."
Adrien had raised his eyebrows. It was rare that his father complimented anyone so openly. He felt a shiver of pride knowing that his amazing friend had made such a strong impression on him.
Friend. Yeah. Anyway.
"Marinette? I know. Her talent is out of this world," he said with a warm smile. "I knew you'd be impressed."
His father leaned closer to him, his eyes full of intent. "I'm not talking about her talent."
Adrien froze. He suddenly felt very exposed by his father's piercing stare. He swallowed, aware of the dryness in his mouth.
"She is…" He struggled to find the right words. "...Truly extraordinary. One of the kindest people I've ever met. I spend most of my time with her, and when she's not around, to be completely honest, I'm thinking about her constantly, counting the minutes to when I'll get to see her again. I've never felt this way about anyone before. All I want is for her to be happy and safe, and I hope more than anything that I can provide that for her. And If I can't, I genuinely hope that she finds someone who will."
Was it a mistake to spill his guts to his father so pathetically the way he just did? Possibly. But they were some of the most sincere words he had ever spoken. As he admitted it out loud, he felt his heart throb with the familiar longing he had been feeling ever since that first day they met. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing it to subside.
Mr. Agreste had nodded carefully at his son's words, a contemplative expression on his face. "So you love her?"
His eyes remained shut. "Yes. I do."
"Then you better act soon, son. Put both of you out of your misery."
Adrien opened his eyes. "What do you mean?"
His father's deadpan expression softened. "Adrien. I know it's probably my fault for raising you so sternly, but you often sell yourself short. That girl is clearly in love with you as well."
Adrien felt the air being sucked out of his lungs. Is she?
Back in the present, Adrien stared up at his bedroom ceiling intently, as if the answers to all of his questions were written on the slats of his air vent.
It seemed too good to be true. And yet his father, Nino, and (according to Nino, at least) Alya were all convinced that his one-sided pining wasn't actually one-sided.
He loved Marinette. Strong word, but there were no doubts in his mind that it was true. It was possible she loved him back. But even if she didn't, was that so bad? As long as she still wanted him in her life and she was happy, Adrien would be happy as well. But he knew that, sooner or later, he had to tell her how he felt, or he would burst.
"Alright," he whispered to himself, setting his jaw determinedly. "Next time I see Marinette, I'll tell her how I feel."
The universe had a funny way of taking his words and throwing them right back into his face.
Right as he finished speaking, he heard an urgent knock at his door.
Adrien shot up out of bed, glancing at his clock- it was 11:30. Late, but not obscenely so. If anyone was visiting at this hour, it would probably be-
Marinette. His heart began pounding in his chest. No time to prepare his dramatic speech declaring his undying love. He'd have to wing it, then.
He quickly threw on a white T-shirt, jogging to the door and flinging it open.
Speak of the angel, and she shall appear.
He smiled at her warmly. It didn't matter how tired he was- seeing her always brightened his spirits. "Hey." He rubbed his hand across his eyes blearily, trying to wake himself up.
Then his eyes adjusted. His smile faltered.
Marinette's arms were wrapped tight around her torso, her eyes red-rimmed. Despite the hour, she was still in her work clothes. She must have just gotten to her apartment, he realized. "Hey." She tried to keep her tone light, but he caught the waver in her voice. She took in his pajama pants and T-Shirt, and her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh. You were sleeping. Of course you were, it's late- ugh, I'm so sorry-"
"I wasn't." He interrupted her before she could spiral, placing his hands on her arms. "I wasn't sleeping. Even if I was, you're more important. Marinette… are you okay?" His thumbs were rubbing little circles on her biceps. He vaguely remembered his mom doing the same with him when he was upset.
She peered up at him with those beautiful blue eyes of hers. She was blinking back tears. "Um…" Her voice was tight, and he could tell she was fighting hard not to break down.
It broke his heart. It also terrified him. Marinette had seen Adrien tear up on several occasions- once talking about his strict upbringing and rocky childhood, a few times when he brought up his mom, and three times during sappy movies- but he had yet to see her like this. Marinette was the strong one, the one who always seemed to have it all together.
Something was really, really wrong.
"Hey, it's okay." He instinctively pulled her in for a hug, wrapping his arms tight around her slender frame. She buried her face into his shirt, letting out a shaky breath. His heart shattered a bit at the sound.
"Come inside," he murmured softly into her hair. "I'll get you some water, okay?" Adrien felt her nod against his chest. Taking a step back, he led them both inside, shutting the door behind him.
Her legs had started to shake. He kept one of his arms secure around her waist, steadying her. His brow furrowed with concern as he led her to the couch, supporting most of her weight as she trembled.
"Marinette, are you sick?" He kneeled in front of her once she was seated, feeling her forehead with his hand. "You're shaking, bug. And you've gone pale. What's wrong?" Adrien's voice was thick with worry.
"I'm-" She took another deep, shaky breath, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. "God. I'm a mess. I'm so sorry."
"Stop that." He frowned, smoothing back her hair with a gentle caress."It's impossible for you to be a mess. No one who tailors all of their clothes to their exact measurements can call themselves a mess."
At that she cracked a small smile, removing her hands from her eyes. "Fair point."
He smiled back gently. "I'm going to get you that water, okay?"
When he returned, setting the glass in front of her and taking a seat next to her on the couch, she had a manila envelope clenched in her hands. She was staring at it grimly, all signs of her previous smile wiped from her face.
The sight of it put a pit of dread in his stomach. "Something tells me whatever's in that envelope isn't good."
"Yeah," she whispered. "It isn't."
"Mari, can you tell me what happened?" He took one of her hands in his. "I want to help. However I can."
She looked down at their hands. Then back at him. Her expression had softened. "I know. Thanks for being here, Adrien. I knew I could go to you."
Adrien felt his whole body flood with warmth. All he wanted was for her to be safe and happy.
Next time I see Marinette, I'll tell her how I feel.
Not anymore. Promises were made to be broken, anyway. Marinette didn't need to deal with his feelings on top of everything else. She needed a friend she could trust. More than anything, that's what he wanted to be for her.
He squeezed her hand tighter. "Of course. I'm always here for you."
She squeezed back. "I know." She took a breath, steeling herself. She straightened herself, pushing her shoulders back. "Okay. I'm ready to tell you. I just needed a minute to freak out, but I'm good now. Mostly." She handed him the envelope. The tremor was gone from her hands. "I just got back from Alya's a few minutes ago. I went straight from work to her apartment, so I hadn't been back here all day. When I got home, this was taped to my front door.
Adrien released her hand to accept the envelope and retrieve its contents. His brow furrowed as he pulled out a stack of photos. He began sifting through them.
Marinette at the store.
Marinette at her job.
Marinette at a restaurant.
Marinette at her parent's bakery.
Marinette, Marinette, Marinette.
Something twisted in his gut. Every image was taken from an odd angle and from a distance, and she was never looking into the camera. Whoever took these didn't want to be seen.
He flipped to the last photo. Marinette at her doorstep.
Whoever this was intentionally tracked her down to find out where she lived.
He swore under his breath, his heart now thudding in his chest for a different reason. He glanced at her, eyebrows drawn. "Do you have any idea who left this?" His tone was sharper than he meant it to come out, but he couldn't help it. "Did they leave anything else behind?"
Marinette was fighting to keep her resolve, but she was still clearly shaken. "No. But… there was a note."
"God…" Adrien stood up, too jittery to keep still. He raked his hand across his face. Took a breath. "Can I see it?"
She hesitated. "Are you sure you want to? It's… it's kind of intense."
"Yes." His response was immediate. In fact, her pause only strengthened his resolve. He needed to know what it said. "I do. If that's alright with you."
Marinette pulled it out of her purse, concern lining her face. "Okay." She handed it to him.
He took it from her and immediately began to pace. Adrien could feel her follow him with her eyes as he made his way back and forth across the room.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I know you, but you don't know me. Yet. Perhaps soon.
He narrowed his eyes. Over his dead body would this creep get anywhere near her.
Like you, I am an artist. I seek inspiration on the streets of Paris. I needed a muse for my latest sculpture, one that I hope will encapsulate the image of divine beauty. Then I saw you. It started out as a single picture for reference. But that wasn't enough. Your proportions, your mannerisms, your coloring- I needed to get it exact, to match your perfection. I became obsessed. As a designer, I'm sure you understand. This is for art.
But then it became more than that.
Adrien's stomach twisted. He kept reading, clenching his jaw as his eyes skimmed further down the page.
As I began to follow you and learn more about your life, I realized that we are destined to be together, Marinette. Your creativity, your kindness, your outward beauty that reflects the beauty within- I need that in my life. I need you in my life.
But I worried you wouldn't understand the intensity of my passion, as others haven't in the past. So consider this my introduction. I'm taking things slow, for you, my beloved.
The edges of the paper crumpled in his fist. This wasn't a celebration of all the wonderful things that made Marinette who she is. This was about desire and possession. Consent wasn't a part of the equation.
Adrien read on, his breathing labored.
I must admit, however, that I am not a very patient man. As I work on my pièce de résistance, I long to have you by my side to closely examine, confirm every minute detail, every freckle, every scar, on the expanse of your smooth skin. I must replicate your exact likeness.
I want to see more of you, Marinette. You're always just out of reach, but never fear: I will find an opportunity for us to do a private consultation, up close and personal. I will finally be able to feel the smoothness of your hair and the heat of your skin. I will wrap my measuring tape tight across your body to find the exact measurements of your sensitive neck, that slender waist, the hips that I long to wrap my fingers around and pull towards my own, your breasts, your perfect ass-
He slammed the paper down on the counter. He couldn't bring himself to read any more.
This guy was sick. And he was dangerous. He would never, ever let him get close to Marinette.
Without hesitation, Adrien whipped out his phone and called the first person on his speed dial.
Over in the living room, Marinette stood up. "Adrien?" She sounded nervous again, but not for her own sake this time.
She had never seen him like this, he realized. Adrien was known for his patience and desire to keep the peace, even in the most tense situations.
He was also fiercely loyal and protective, especially towards the ones he loved the most. Marinette had lost her sense of safety because of this psychopath. He refused to let him take anything else from her.
"It's alright, Marinette," he assured, stepping towards her. His voice was trembling with anger, and he fought to suppress it. He needed to keep a clear head. "I'm going to take care of this."
She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"
The line clicked. His father's voice spoke in his ear, a cold deadpan. "Adrien, it's late."
"One moment father."
"One moment? You called me-"
He set down his phone on the counter, ignoring him. He turned back to Marinette, who was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He placed his hands on her biceps, staring seriously into her eyes. "I'm going to hook you up with a security system tomorrow. My father has business connections with SafeTech and can get you a top-of-the-line setup by early morning. In the meantime you can stay at my place tonight, or I can drive you to Alya's or your parent's place. If you need anything from your apartment I'll go with you. I won't leave you alone, okay? You're safe."
Marinette's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. "I… I can't… I don't want to make you or your father do all that-"
He shook his head fervently. "You're not making me do anything. I'm choosing to. And trust me, my father would kill me with his own two bare hands if I didn't let him know so he could help as well."
She pressed her lips into a firm line. Adrien noticed that her eyes were welling up with tears again. "Why are you so perfect?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. There was a teasing lilt to it, but also a note of something else he couldn't place.
He smiled warmly at her. Brushed back a loose strand of her hair. "Trust me, I'm not. I just want to make sure you're safe, Mari. That matters more than anything else" She leaned into the touch of his hand, and his heart skittered in his chest.
"Adrien!"
They both snapped out of it, glancing at his phone. His phone wasn't even on speaker, but if his father knew how to do anything, it was raise his voice.
He picked up his phone. "Just one more moment, father. Please."
"One more- you have some nerve-!"
He muted it this time, setting it back down.
Marinette stared at him with open-mouthed awe. "Are we sure it's my safety we need to worry about?"
"He'll be fine once he knows what's going on," Adrien assured her, but he grimaced at the thought of facing his father's wrath when he picked his phone back up. "Where do you think you want to stay tonight?"
She smiled shyly at him. "Alright if I stay here?"
More than alright, he thought, his whole body relaxing at her words. If she was there with him, he knew he could make sure she was okay. As much as he trusted Alya and her parents to do the same, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if he didn't see it with his own eyes.
"Of course, Mari," he said instead. "Do you need to grab anything from across the hall?"
"No," she said quickly. Then cringed at her response. "I just- the thought of going in there, or even of you going in there…" she trailed off, her eyes fluttering shut. "Adrien… I lost my key on the subway."
His blood turned to ice. "What?"
"A couple weeks ago," she confessed. She was wringing her hands now. "I've been using my spare. I didn't think it was a big deal, but now…" Her breathing had begun to increase again. "What if I didn't lose it? What if he… What if…" She couldn't make herself say the words.
"We're replacing the locks," he said, grabbing her hands. "Okay? Even if he has the key, he's not getting in. And I'm giving you the spare key to my place, too."
She gaped at him. "What?"
"We're going to get this guy, Marinette," he said fiercely. "But if at any point before we do you feel uneasy over at your place, you can come here. Doesn't matter when."
"Adrien…"
"You'd do the same for me," he said with finality. "So don't even try to protest.
"You and your stubbornness." She rolled her eyes at him, but she was smiling. She knew he was right. "Okay. But that isn't going to stop me from baking you a million thank-you croissants."
"Looking forward to it," he said with a rakish grin. "I'm going to talk with my father before he pops a vein. The third drawer of my dresser is pajamas and T-Shirts if you'd like to get more comfortable. You know where the towels are if you want to shower, too. Make yourself at home, okay?"
"Okay," she said softly. Then after the briefest of hesitations, she lifted herself onto her tip toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple. "Thank you."
And then she quickly whisked herself away, disappearing into his bedroom.
He gazed longingly after her, holding a hand to where her lips had been. He loved her so much.
Speaking of people he loved…
His gaze landed back on his phone. Oh yeah. My father.
With a sigh, he picked up the device and pressed the unmute button.
"Thank you for your patience, father."
"You have exactly ten seconds to explain to me why you called at this hour and then proceeded to ignore me for five minutes. I have a meeting at 6 in the morning tomorrow, Adrien." His tone was frosty.
Adrien didn't let it get to him, though. "Marinette was threatened today." His own voice grew serious as the fear for her safety came rushing back in full force. To his surprise, he sounded a bit like his father. Not that he'd ever say that out loud.
His father paused on the other end of the line. "What happened, son?" Concern softened his words.
For a moment, Adrien simply closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. It was times like these that he felt closely connected to the man he felt so estranged from for much of his life.
They had an understanding. Both men would move the ends of the earth to protect the ones they loved the most. His father had lost his mother, and that had broken him. Knowing that pain, he would do anything to ensure Marinette's safety.
Adrien filled him in on everything, from the pictures, the contents of the letter (excluding the more graphic portion at the end, which still made him sick to his stomach), to the lost key. In the background he heard the sounds of the shower running.
"I'll have the new lock and security system installed tomorrow morning," his father confirmed. "And I'm assuming you're contacting the police?"
"I plan on calling the police and talking to our landlord first thing tomorrow morning. Right now the most important thing is being here for Marinette."
"Where is she now?"
"My place," Adrien said.
There was a pause on the other line. Adrien made a face. "I'm sleeping on the couch, father."
"I wasn't insinuating anything."
"I would never take advantage of Marinette with everything that's going on right now!"
"I know, Adrien. I raised you to be a gentleman." He paused again. "I take it you haven't confessed your feelings yet?"
He sighed. The water turned off, and he glanced towards his door. Marinette would be coming out any minute. "No," he said, pitching his voice low. "I haven't. And I'm not going to, at least for a while. Not right now."
His father hummed in consideration. "I agree that's for the best. Otherwise your genuine efforts to help could be passed on as an attempt to woo her."
Adrien wrinkled his nose. "Woo? Is that even a thing anyone says anymore?"
He sighed on the other line. "Goodnight, Adrien. And you two stay safe."
He smiled despite himself. As much of a hardass as he was, his father did care. "Thanks. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight."
Just as Adrien hung up his phone, Marinette walked out wearing a pair of his plaid pajama pants and a black T-shirt. The clothes hung loosely on her frame, swallowing her in the fabric. She was toweling off her hair as she approached him. "How did it go with your father?"
He tried his best not to go all gooey eyed. She looked so adorable in his clothes. "Great. Everything's all set. He wanted to make sure you're taken care of."
"Please make sure to tell him how incredibly thankful I am," she insisted fervently. "And know how incredibly grateful I am to you, too."
Grinning deviously, Adrien grabbed the towel from her hand and mussed her hair with it. She laughed, batting his hand away. "Adrien!"
"Feeling less grateful now?" He tossed the towel in his hamper, which was just visible inside his bedroom. Nothing but net. She applauded him.
"Just a bit."
"Good. Now enough with the thank-you's. Need I remind you that you saved me from being crucified by my father not that long ago? I owed you one."
"Nuh-uh." She placed her hands on her hips. "When you helped me open my door the day we first met I owed you one, and then I helped you with groceries so we were even, and then you swooped in and saved the day when I knocked myself out, and then I evened the score again with your dad, so now-"
"Now it doesn't even matter anymore because we're friends and we help each other because we love each other," he interrupted teasingly.
Then his heart stopped for a moment. He said it. In so many words, he told Marinette he loved her.
Trying to remain calm, Adrien took what he hoped was a casual, steadying breath. Stared at her with unblinking green eyes, waiting to catch any sort of reaction to his words. Could she tell how deeply he meant it? Had she caught on to the way he looked at her, the way she made him smile in a way no one else did?
Marinette seemed to forget to breathe for a moment, blue eyes wide. Then, quickly recovering, she smiled at him, all signs of stress and worry melting away from her features. "You're right. We do."
We do. She wasn't placating him, or just dropping these words casually. She sounded like she meant it.
He could sing. He could belt out an operatic melody in the hallway for all his neighbors to hear, because dear, wonderful, beautiful, perfect Marinette loved him too.
As a friend, sure. But still, his heart soared.
"Hey, you need to get to bed," she murmured, her expression pensive again. Her hands came to rest on his cheek, thumbs brushing over the dark circles under his eyes. The caress made him shiver. "I know you have an early morning tomorrow. And you look exhausted."
Adrien shrugged non committedly, even though he really was exhausted. The adrenaline rush he had felt earlier had dissipated after talking to his father.
"I've actually decided I'm skipping my morning class tomorrow," he confessed. "It was a review day, anyway, and I want to be there when the guys show up to change your locks and install the security system."
Marinette sighed at him, but didn't protest. "Yeah, I was thinking of calling in tomorrow, too. I won't be able to focus with everything going on."
"They'll understand. You're also by far their best intern, so I'm sure it'll be fine."
"You've never met any of the other interns."
"Don't need to. They're nothing compared to you/"
She laughed at him, flicking his forehead. "Dork. But even if you get to sleep in tomorrow, you look dead on your feet right now."
"And yet I still look camera ready," he said with a dramatic flourish, waltzing over to one of the closets and pulling out one of the blankets and extra pillows he kept for guests. "Perks of being a former model. Constant, irresistible good looks." He dropped them on the couch, and then did a belly flop onto it with a loud oomph. "But I guess I'll get some beauty rest," he said, his voice muffled by his pillow.
Marinette was unimpressed. "Adrien, c'mon. You're not sleeping there."
He rolled from his stomach to his back so he could meet her stern gaze. "Where else would I sleep?" He asked innocently.
"Your own bed! I am not about to kick you out of your own room!"
"I like the couch better," he lied, fluffing up the cheap cushions for emphasis. "In fact, you should be jealous that I get this all to myself."
Marinette sighed dramatically, once again admitting defeat. "You're not moving, are you?"
"Nope," he retorted, popping the P and winking at her. Then he burrowed under the blanket, taking care to look extra comfortable.
She stared at him with a deadpan expression. He yawned gratuitously, which earned a small smirk.
"Okay, you mangy cat," she murmured softly, disappearing into the kitchen. She came back out with a glass of water, which she placed on a coaster on the coffee table. Her fingers smoothed back his hair as she pressed a kiss to his forehead, earning a blush from Adrien. "Good night, handsome boy." She flicked off the lights.
I love you I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou-
"Goodnight, little bug. You won't have to worry about bed bugs biting- I told them they had to go sleep somewhere else."
"Ha ha." Despite the sarcasm, she smiled warmly at him, disappearing into his bedroom for the night.
