This fanfiction is based on a popular piece of ML Art (the "Do You See Me Now?" one). There are probably many fan fictions based on this picture, so I am sorry if you've already read ones like this. I do not own the work of art this story is based on, and give full credit to the artist. Sadly, I do not know who the artist is because it has been republished many times. If anyone does know, feel free to comment!

ML

age six

"MARINETTE! MARINETTE!" a young boy calls out, rushing up to a young girl with brilliant blue eyes. "I'm back!"

Marinette perks up. "Adrien!" she squeals, squeezing him in a hug. "How was the shoot? How was New York City?" The young designer's eyes light up at the thought of the city of fashion.

Adrien shrugs modestly. "Ah, it was okay. And New York was the same as ever."

Marinette can't help but feel a bit jealous of the child model. How many kids in Paris can say that New York City was the "same as ever"?

She tries to lighten her mood by teasing her best friend. "Well, you haven't changed much! I'm still way taller than you!" she sticks her tongue out.

Adrien scrunches his nose and goes on his tippy toes. "Now I'm your height!" he beams.

Marinette laughs and shakes her head. "Doesn't count!" She copies him. "You'll never be taller than me!"

He slumps, looking up at the beautiful girl. He can't help but feel a little starry-eyes while staring into her beautiful eyes. "Marry me," he whispers breathily.

Marinette looks surprised. "Um...what did you say?" She flushes slightly.

Realising that he accidentally voiced his thoughts, he tenses and blurts out, "Ah! I mean, uh...if I grow taller. Will you marry me?"

Marinette's eyes widen at his proposal. Then she smirks. "Sure," she says calmly. Inside, butterflies are running laps like crazy. She has to admit that she has a bit of a crush on him.

Adrien's insides seem to be doing exactly the same. "Wait, really?" he grins widely. "So if I grow taller than you like-" he goes on his tippy toes again and lifts his hand up above her head, "-this, you'll marry me right?"

Marinette bites her lip to keep from smiling and crosses her arms. "How 'bout we see if the time actually comes, Shortie?" she says smugly.

Adrien's grin widens, and the butterflies in both of their stomachs do another lap.

ML

age twelve

SHE HATES HIM. Why does he have to be so gorgeous? Why does he have to be a model?

More importantly, why does he have to leave her?

She recalls last week, when Adrien broke the news to her. "I'm leaving," he said quietly. "Next week. New York City."

She never thought that she would hate New York City so much.

"Why?" she asked, trying to hide the desperation in her voice.

Adrien seemed to be holding back tears. "I- my father has a new office there. He wants to make sure everything there is running smoothly."

"Right." Marinette's voice cracked. "Well, have fun."

Then she ran.

And left a broken-hearted boy behind.

ML

age 17

"MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG, don't make me dump this pitcher of ice cold water over your head!"

Marinette jumps up. "I'm up, I'm up! Geez, Alya, no need to give me hypothermia."

Alya Césaire, her best friend since fourteen, rolls her eyes. "Marinette, a pitcher of cold water isn't going to give you hypothermia."

"Whatever," grumbles Marinette. She eyes the red-head curiously. "Anyways, what are you doing here?"

Alya's eyes light up. "Okay, so you know that really popular clothing brand?" she questions. "What am I saying, of course you do, you're a designer! No duh you know this brand-"

"Alya!" Marinette laughs. "Stop, you sound like me. What clothing brand?"

Alya grins, Marinette-style. "Oh! Gabriel Agreste, sorry." Marinette feels her heart drop. "So, there's this fashion show going on tonight underneath the Eiffel Tower, and I thought that maybe we could-"

"No," Marinette says quickly.

Alya glares at her. "Will you stop cutting me off, girl? Geez!" She looks at her with a pointed stare. "And anyways, I already bought the tickets, so we're going!"

Marinette makes a sound of indignation. "Then why did you ask if you already bought the tickets?" she whines. "Just bring Nino!"

Alya sighs in exasperation. "He already has a ticket, Marinette. Come on, what's so bad about a fashion show? You love them!" She nudges Marinette with her finger. "It starts at 18:00. Because you somehow managed to stay asleep until I woke you up at twelve, that's in six hours. I expect to see you ready to be pampered in four."

"Fine," Mariette groans, but Alya is already out the door.

ML

Four hours later, Alya is back at her house, destroying her closet.

"Come on, girl! You're a fashion designer, for Christ's sake! You should be able to pick out a simple evening outfit." Alya takes a few more clothes out of her closet, inspects them, then throws them on the ground.

Marinette lays sprawled on her chaise. "I seem to have lost all of my knowledge on fashion," she mumbles. Alya sighs, then grabs her arm and attempts to drag her across the floor to her disastrous mess of clothes.

"Geez, girl, what did you eat today?" Alya groans. She tries one more time to pull her arm, but fails.

"Exactly. I'm too fat to fit into any of my evening clothes."

Rolling her eyes, Alya points out, "I didn't say you were fat." She throws an eye-scratching outfit at her. "Pick out an outfit or you're wearing this."

Since the outfit is an utter disgrace to the fashion industry, Marinette grudgingly picks out an eye-catching outfit that will make any fashion designer drop to the ground and beg her to intern for her.

Which, to be honest, is kind of what she's going for.

When she comes out the bathroom, Alya's mouth drops. "Woah, girl, you're gonna steal the spotlight away from the models!" she laughs. "Now, let's go! We're gonna be late!"

They meet Nino at the Eiffel Tower. He's decked out in a casual yet elegant suit. He grins at the sight of his girlfriend. "Beautiful." He pecks a blushing Alya on the lips.

"Not too bad looking yourself," she beams. The lights on the set up stage start to flash, and Alya says, "Oh, it's about to start!"

They rush to their seats, and a voice projects into the audience. "Hello, and welcome to the Gabriel Agreste: Spring Collection fashion show. The show will begin immediately after this announcement, so please refrain from taking flash photography unless given written permission from the Agreste company. Please silence all devices, and enjoy the show." Alya squeals next to Marinette, and she can't help feeling a bit excited herself.

The first model comes out, dressed in a simple, clean-cut vest and flowy pants. Marinette's eyes are glued to her as she clicks in her high heels across the runway. I should've brought my notebook, she thought.

Engrossed in her thoughts, she doesn't notice Alya's star-struck gaze until she feels as if her arm is about to fall off. "Geez, Alya, what is it? Stop squeezing my arm!"

"He's so hot!" the girl exclaims.

Nino looks at her flatly. "Remember that you have a boyfriend."

Alya shoos him away. "Not for me, he's waaay too out of my league. He's super hot though." It seems as if all of the girls in the audience agree, as they're all swooning.

Rolling her eyes, she looks at the model on the stage. He can't possibly be that hot, can he? She smiles at the stage, and-

She freezes.

And watches as her childhood best friend walks down the runway and smirks at the cameras, runs a hand through his golden hair, and shows off his outfit.

Holy. Sh*t.

He smiles at the audience—but she can tell it's not really real—and scans the crowd, not expecting to see anyone in particular. He locks eyes with her.

The world stops. Blue met green. Water crashes against land. Eyes widen. He stops for a second on stage, something she's sure his dad will criticise him for after the show.

Then, the most breathtaking smile breaks out on his face. He blushes slightly, and winks in her direction.

He walks back to the backdrop, and disappears. Forgetting that she's with her best friend and her best friend's boyfriend for a second, she sinks in her chair, clutching her heart.

"What the hell was that?"

Her head snaps up to find Nino and Alya looking at her like she's grown a second head. She gulps. "Um, nothing."

Nino snickers. "It sure didn't look like nothing."

The show ends a few minutes later, and the audience surges forward, eager to meet the models. "Hey, why don't we go?" Marinette suggests, tugging the couple's arms.

Alya shakes her head. "No way are we leaving, we're-"

"Wow, you're beautiful."

Marinette stops. She turns around slowly. "Hey, Adrien," she swallows. His gorgeous eyes are wide and glowing.

"I mean, you were always beautiful, it's just that- well, um..." he stammers. "Sorry, uh..."

"You grew."

Adrien seems to forget his state a moment before, and the corner of his mouth quirks up. He goes closer to her. Raising his hand slightly above her head, he says softly, "Do you see me now?"

He remembers.

"I- um..." she stutters, the roles reversed. "Uh...does that mean we're getting married?"

Way to go, Marinette.

Adrien's smile spreads. His lips graze her ear. "Of course, Princess." Then, he leans back a little, and his lips brush against hers. Her eyes widen. Then she sighs, and presses against him, wrapping her hands in his hair. "I love you," he whispers against her lips.

She smiles against him. "I love you too, Shortie."

"HOLD IT, WTF MARINETTE YOU'RE SEVENTEEN I CAN NOT ALLOW THIS-"

"Shut up Nino and let them have their moment."