A/N: it's a lot of comedy in this chapter. Suggestive themes, be warned. Alya is Alya. (btw i'm a bit upset bc someone else wrote a marching band au but I have no right to bc I never claimed I owned this au :c augh I need to stop being a baby ok ok bye)
"Alright, bring it in," Theo said.
Everyone cried out in relief, some falling on their knees and crawling, others staggering towards the podium. Sounds of thirsty drinking filled the air as they waited for the whole band to gather around.
"You all did a wonderful job today," Mme Mendeleiev said without cracking a grin. They knew she was only saying it to make them feel better. The color guard instructor had no emotions, no mercy, no nothing.
"Yes. We are all proud of you," Armand added flatly.
"So tonight, we'd like you all to take a wonderful break," Mlle Bustier said, a sincere smile drawing grins from the teenagers. "Currently it is ten oh-nine, and tomorrow morning at eight o'clock sharp, we expect you to be here ready for warm-ups. Alright?"
Silence. Their lungs have been abused by merciless hours of playing and swinging heavy flags. Oxygen was considered too precious to waste over unnecessary talking.
"Please do not stay in the park too long. We all want you home in twenty minutes. No socializing," Theo warned. "Save your energy for the next six days of Band Camp. Yeah?"
A lifeless cheer.
"Yeah?!"
A bit more effort (and oxygen, ohno) was put into their whooping.
"I don't hear you!"
Everyone forced the last drops of energy out as they screamed, "Yeah!" It echoed throughout the sleeping streets, leaving them dead.
"Alright, go home, all of you." The four instructors shooed off the marchers, guiding them through the dimly lit park to their cases and belongings.
Marinette collapsed at her clarinet case, Alya weakly nudging her to get up.
"Mari, get up."
"No. Leave me here. I'm dead," she moaned.
"Girl, you live right across the street. You can make it," Alya said with a twinge of jealousy.
"Stay over. You're gonna pass out on the streets and someone will kidnap you and you will never see my beautiful children."
"I have one of them," she pointed out with a chuckle, yanking the hair tie off.
"Yeah, I know. Now give Sally back." Marinette rolled onto her knees and held out her hand, wiggling fingers urging her to hurry up. Alya dropped a wad of hair and tie in her hand. "Ew! Your hair is all over it!"
She shrugged. "Oops."
"Stay over please?" Marinette begged, jutting out her quivering lower lip.
"Fine," she said, closing her case. She grumbled as she pushed herself to stand. "Hurry up, Mari. I wanna go to sleep."
"Sorry, sorry." After running her rag through Claire, she put it away and stood up.
And looked around.
Only a few people remained, some still chatting despite Theo's words, others on their phones as they waited for rides. The two guard instructors were chatting with each other, the younger woman smiling broadly while Mme Mendeleiev kept interrupting her by screaming at kids to get out of the road if you wanna live.
Nino and Adrien were still here, too. Good.
Marinette was about to offer her place to sleep over and return the shades, but Adrien gave Nino a shoulder bump and turned around to look for someone.
To look for her, Marinette Huiqing Dupain-Cheng.
His jade eyes locked with her sapphire ones and gave her a two-finger salute. He turned around and walked away but kept glancing back at her over his shoulders, shooting a smirk with every look.
"Wait," she weakly said, holding up his sunglasses and pointing to them, "your glasses." But he already turned a corner.
Alya's chin rested on her shoulder and said groggily, "You're pretty special to him, y'know."
"How do you know that?" Marinette's gaze was still on the place Adrien was at a few moments ago.
Alya sighed; no matter how many hints she dropped, Marinette was still tentative to believe that Adrien reciprocated her feelings. And to be honest, Marinette was absolutely terrified if he returned her feelings or not. Because if he didn't, she'd have to relive seventh grade, which was also known as her Hell Year. Additionally, she thought that someone like him—heir of Agreste Symphonic Orchestra and son of the most talented conductor/musician of all time—would never want someone like her, a girl with too many faces to count.
With every push of Alya came lame excuses. Some were obvious lies that Alya could detect, others were honest feelings.
He's the son of Gabriel Agreste, the president and leader of Agreste Symphonic Orchestra. Adrien would want someone better, a girl who can play three instruments he like himself.
Just give me another year, and then I'll get over him. Remember Joseph? Frederick? Remember Henry?! Trust me, Al. He's just another phase.
I'm . . . I'm scared. What if he doesn't like me? What if I get hurt? I don't want to date him if I don't know him that well. He could have some kind of ulterior motive.
Psshh, c'mon Alya! She would laugh. Adrien? Liking me?! Is it April Fools already? Or is it July? Because you July'd to me!
It was funny to watch her spew lies, but it was also painful. Alya just wanted to reveal everything.
"He gave you his shades," Alya said.
"Th-that doesn't prove anything!" she said a little too loudly, gaining the attention of the directors. In a hiss, she added, "He was just being nice and lended them to me."
"That's the thing, though," she pointed out as she dragged Marinette across the street and into the bakery. They padded up the steps, careful not to wake her sleeping parents. "Adrien never lends those pair of sunglasses. He guards it with his life," she said as she got comfortable on the chaise. She was changed in one of Marinette's pajamas, her and Marinette's clothes thrown in the mesh hamper.
Marinette tossed a thin blanket down from her loft and huddled in her comforters. Even though it was summer, she refused to sleep without a blanket. But she wasn't too hot: she slept in her underwear.
"Maybe it wasn't the same pair," Marinette retorted, lying down on her back and pulling the sheets up to her armpits. She held up Adrien's sunglasses, folding and unfolding it until she was too tired. She placed it on the shelf, eyes lingering for a second too long.
"Oho, no," Alya laughed, "you are wrong, little girl. That very pair you were wearing—the blue arms and the black lens, the Aviator shades—it's known as his precious child. No one has ever worn them, not even Chloe. And Chloe was his childhood friend!"
She scoffed. "Whatever. You're crazy. Go to sleep."
"What's the point of wanting to be with him? You dub him as the love of your life, yet you can't make a move on him!"
"Alya, I only say that because I get awkward and crazy when I like someone! I can get over it. It's only a crush; same old, same old." Marinette finally settled onto her side, her back facing Alya. "He'll give up on me when he finds out how 'fake' I am."
"Stop trying to protect yourself!" Alya shouted, agitated. "I know of the Felix incident"—Marinette visibly stiffened—"but Adrien is not like him. Just give him a chance. Trust me."
Marinette felt tears prick her eyes. In a tight voice, she said, "Alya, you know me. I get the silliest crushes! Like, I used to like Frederick because of his jaw line. Then I got over him because this other dude had the sexiest voice. And then that little phase ended because Joseph gave me a pencil. Adrien's just another one of those phony obsessions."
"You've liked him since last year. When's this little phase gonna end, huh?"
"Soon," she lied. "Because they never last over two years. Someone better always comes. Always." Marinette felt her insides churn as she said this, but she only blinked tightly and controlled her erratic breathing. "We're friends. And I don't want to ruin that."
"By the end of marching band, you're not," she grumbled, taking off her glasses and snuggling into the throw pillow.
:..:
Adrien had managed to skip out on private lessons Nathalie scheduled that night. He had blubbered an excuse about how badly he needed to pee. So he went to his room, locked all entryways, and never heard from Nathalie that night.
Now he was on the phone with Nino, eyes struggling to stay open when his cool pillows called for him to dream, but it was too much of an important talk to sleep on.
"You did well, Adrien," Nino said, laughing quietly. "I think you got her with the whole sunglasses episode."
He flushed, his body now feeling too warm in its white tank top and boxers. "She looked like she was about to pass out. I couldn't just stand back and watch."
"You could've." He pictured Nino shrugging his shoulders. "But you actually gave your baby away. You've prided those shades for how many years up until now?"
Adrien didn't respond.
"Exactly. This is the first time you've felt this way about anyone, right?"
"Yeah."
"You know," he said, stretching the last word, "it could be because of your seclusion to the world; there could be other better women out there."
The blond choked. "N-no there aren't. And this has nothing to do with my homeschooling," he protested.
Nino laughed quietly. "You're such a sap. I'm hanging up now. 'Night, man."
"'Night," Adrien mumbled, dropping his phone onto the bedside table. He plugged it in and sighed helplessly, eyes fluttering closed instantly.
The next morning, the image of Marinette's face covered with his Ray-Ban glasses was still etched in his mind.
:..:
"Mari, you're stark naked. Get up before I send a nude to Adrien," Alya said, standing on the ladder. She cackled when Marinette's eyes snapped open as she yelled and tugged the blanket over her body.
"Alya!" she screamed, hiding her flustered cheeks.
"It's almost seven thirty. We're gonna be late," she said. "I'm using your clothes." She grabbed a shirt from her closet and closed the bathroom door shut with her hip. The sound of running water replaced the quietness.
"Ugh," Marinette said, getting up and using her blanket as a cape.
She snatched the sunglasses from its place and descended the ladder ungracefully, making sure to cover every patch of skin on her body. Clutching a bundle of sheets and the Aviator shades in one hand, the other skimmed through her closet.
"What's the theme?" she shouted to the bathroom.
"Superhero day," came the muffled response.
A few minutes later, Alya opened the door, wearing a white tank top with the shield of Captain America imprinted in the center. Her hair was dripping wet, having been shunned from a towel. The clothes and shorts stuck to her body from the water that wasn't dried.
Marinette tossed her a towel. It draped over her head.
"Thanks."
"I don't have many superhero shirts. You're wearing my favorite one," Marinette said to herself, the clicking of hangers making her grow impatient. "I'll just wear the one Woo gave me." She tugged on a hanger, pulling out a red t-shirt with a faded W and wings on the front.
Alya's nose wrinkled. "How old is that thing?"
"It's not old," she said, getting defensive as she tightened her hold on her cape, "it's just the design, Al."
"Sure, sure." She rolled her eyes. "Take a shower and change."
"Yes, Mom."
In ten minutes, Marinette emerged from the bathroom, hair still clumped together and skin still soft. Dots of water peppered her shirt as she forced a brush through the tangles, wincing as her locks were tugged out.
Alya was already downstairs, and she could hear her converse with her parents, apologizing about the sudden stay and Tom chuckling that it was alright. Sabine was surprised, but she still had her arms open to Alya. She was like Sabine's second daughter anyway.
Marinette gave one glance at herself, the glasses hanging on the collar of the t-shirt causing her heart stammer. She bit her lip and turned away, scurrying down the stairs.
"Morning, Papa, Maman," she said, greeting them with kisses on the cheeks. Marinette joined Alya on a bar stool and shoveled cereal in her mouth.
"Sorry we couldn't cook more for you girls," Sabine said, leaning her elbows on the counter. "I gave Alya your eggs, if that's okay."
Marinette waved her hand, unbothered. "Nah, that's fine. I'm the one who dumped another person here." Alya elbowed her in the side, making her splutter milk through her nose. She wiped the back of her hand against her face, being the animal she was. "Cereal is fine."
"Sugar and milk can't keep you full for seven hours, Marinette," Tom said, handing her a giant glass of water. "Drink lots of water to keep you full."
"Then I'll have to pee in the middle of Band Camp," she complained.
Alya snickered. "You live across the street."
"But if I miss even a minute, I can miss three sets of the performance. Armand gets a lot done in a hundred milliseconds. And besides, we can't leave the park," she said, lifting the bowl and drinking the milk. This time, Tom muffled her mouth with a washcloth, wiping off her milk moustache.
"Mind your manners," he said with a strict look.
"Sorry, Papa."
"We should get going soon," Alya said, picking up her clarinet case, which was left by the door next to Marinette's. She looked at her phone. "It's seven fifty-seven."
"Ohhhh"—she stopped her tongue before she could blurt out a curse in front of her parents and coughed into her first—"well, we're off."
"Have fun." Sabine waved them off.
"We'll try," Alya called back, closing the door behind them.
:..:
"Marching band is fun and all," Marinette lazily drawled as she pushed the pieces of her clarinet together, "but band camp is pure hell."
Alya aligned her reed on her mouthpiece, saying absentmindedly, "I agree with you one hundred percent." She tightened the screws and stood up with a sigh. Then she scouted for Nino and Adrien, hoping to bring the squad back together.
Alya found them already in their lines, both swinging their saxes on their straps. She left Marinette without a second thought, but Marinette didn't know.
"It's just the weather, y'know?" she continued. "It's too hot out here, D'Argencourt"—she didn't bother using honorifics—"is a freakin' slave driver, and Mendeleiev is just flat-out abusive. I feel so bad for the color guard.
"But then again, they have Mlle Bustier, who is two times better than M Theo." She paused and then shrugged, disagreeing with herself. "Well, they're both equal, I guess." She gasped after blowing warm air into her clarinet. "I can see them as a couple! I mean, they're incredibly nice and young, I just want to tie them together and see—"
"Wow, kinky, Mari," a new voice interjected.
The blue-haired girl flinched and turned around, seeing three figures looming over her. She jumped up, viewing Alya, Nino, and Adrien a few yards away over the shoulder of—
"Hey, it's Kim the Koreaboo!" she said, a smirk rivalling his. Kim's smile dropped, an embarrassed scowl on his face.
"Says the Weeb," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Hmm?" she hummed, ignoring his comment and trying to look at the design of his shirt. (Kim's eyebrow twitched. That girl . . .) "What hero are you supposed to be?" She pried his arms apart without straining a single muscle as he held back. "Cool. You like Flash?"
He nodded, his head bobbing to the right and left. "It's the only shirt I had."
She pursed her lips, greeting the others. "Hey, Max. How're you doing with the braces?"
"I am awaiting for the depths of the earth to engulf me and welcome me home at Hell," the gamer said darkly, punching on the metal mouthpiece. "I just got them tightened last Saturday, and it still hurts." He moved his jaw for emphasis, cringing at every movement. "Yet Mom continues to force me to go to trumpet lessons."
Marinette gave him a small pat on the shoulder. "You'll make it through." Then her blue eyes moved onto Michael and his shirt. "Hey, Woo the Wonder Wooman. Ha, get it?" She rose her hand, waiting for a high-five.
"What's good, Net?" The trombone player accepted her hand and shoved his shoulder into hers. "Looks like we're matching today." He straightened his shirt, extending the hem out to get a better look.
"Only because you gave me this shirt, like, years ago," she agreed, laughing. Then she realized that she was actually socializing with people that weren't Alya and Nino and Adrien. "Wait, why are you here anyway?"
"You're kinda blocking the water fountain," Kim pointed out, his sharp chin pointing to the stone water fountain past her. The Vietnamese male sent her a smirk.
Marinette turned around, finally aware that she was, indeed, standing directly in front of it. "Oh," she said, "sorry about that."
She gently kicked her clarinet case and coolor to the side, maneuvering her body around to give the boys full access.
"Thanks, Pain," Michael said, brushing his brown bangs to the side.
"Can you settle with one name for me, Woo? By the end of camp, I'll be responding to Goose and Chair."
:..:
Adrien really wished for this conversation to take an end. Alya was explicitly describing Marinette's sleeping habits, making sure to get him embarrassed on purpose. That sadistic little—
"And then I told her I would send Adrien a nu—"
"Oh look, here she comes!" Adrien interrupted, his voice cracking.
She was dressed in a Wonder Woman shirt with his glasses hooked on the collar, swinging Claire ("Don't ask," Alya told them after she explained Marinette's naming habits. "She just named her clarinet Claire.") and waving at other marchers as she walked by.
And now she was standing in front of Adrien.
"Alya, I can't believe you just left me," Marinette complained, leaning her forehead against Alya's back. "I just embarrassed myself in front of Kim's Crooked Crew."
"The KK—"
"Stop," Adrien cut Nino off by shoving his hand over his lips. He recoiled with a disgusted look when something wet dragged across his palm. "Gross! Did you just lick me?"
Nino winked. "Works every time."
"How? How'd you embarrass yourself?" Alya leaned towards the boys, whispering, "I bet it's something inappropriate."
Nino nodded slowly with a grin and Adrien spluttered.
"So I was ranting on and on about how bad the band directors are, but then I got on the topic of Mlle Bustier and M Theo," she said, her eyes trained on the ground. "So I got a bit carried away in my ships—"
"Ships?" Adrien whispered.
"Relationships, dude," Nino elaborated.
"—and then I said, 'I want to tie them together.' But I didn't mean that! I just wanted to see how things would turn out if they were stuck with each other. Would they confess? Highly unlikely.
"And Kim's Crew was right behind me. Kim said, 'Kinky, Marinette' ahughahughahugh." To exaggerate the laugh, she mimicked Goofy's chortle, wiggling her fingers as she rolled her eyes sarcastically. Her expression went flat again. "I bet they all think I'm some horny teenager," she admitted, burying her face in her hands.
Adrien's jaw dropped. Shy, sassy, and sexually inclined . . . ? He still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Marinette openly talked about . . . arousing topics.
Alya leaned her head back and cackled loudly, slapping her hands on her thighs. "I told you! I told you! Get REKT!" she shouted, shoving Nino around.
Nino let her, snickering and drunkenly staggering around, clutching at his stomach behind his bari. "Wow, Mari. Wow."
"Yeah," she mumbled. "But," she started again in a more chipper voice, innocence glossing over her eyes, "I managed to make some small talk with them because I didn't know I was blocking the water fountain. Turns out Michael, my old friend and the tromboner"—Adrien gagged, Alya laughed too hard to make noise, and Nino was bent over—"is matching with me! See—guys? Guys, what's wrong?"
Alya gasped for a breath, wheezing as she let out another round of giggles. "I'm absolutely positive that people now think you're a hormonal girl, Mari."
Said girl blinked in oblivion. "What?"
"Really?" Nino said. "'I sleep naked', 'tie them together' and 'tromboner'?" Her face lit up. "You deserve to be embarrassed." He slapped a hand on her shoulder and failed to bite back his snickers. After recovering, he seriously said, "You're innocent and all, but you really need to watch what you're saying."
She nodded, unable to reply.
Alya, who had calmed down, added, "What a good day." She wiped a tear away, stomach screaming in pain. "I better have abs from all that laughing."
Adrien interjected, "You don't actually—"
"I don't like that attitude, Agreste!" Alya yelled over him. He pouted. Then she said, "Ooh, Superman, eh?"
He looked down, nodding. "Yeah."
"They say Wonder Woman and Superman are a thing, y'know?" Alya said, bumping shoulders with him. Marinette stuttered, telling her to shut up.
"I'm Ironman," Nino said.
Alya turned to him, hands on hips. "No one asked you, Nin."
He rolled his eyes, leaned his head back, and groaned. "Stop ruining my name!"
"Never," she said. "I'll get to abuse everyone's name. It's my job as Squad Mom." She faced Adrien. "AIDS." Then at Marinette. "Mars." Alya pointed at herself. "Als."
"I do not want to be associated with diseases."
"And I don't want to be a planet. You're ostracizing me, putting me on a different world than all of you."
Adrien laughed out loud. "That was a good pun."
Marinette stared at him blankly until she processed her words. Her jaw gently dropped as she nodded slowly. "Oh. I get it." Then she smacked his upper arm. "You're a dork."
"But hey, on the bright side, at least you're not stuck with these idiots," Adrien said to her, jabbing his thumb at Nino and Alya.
"You're all lucky your name means something. What the hell does Nin mean?"
"Well, what about Als?" Alya retorted.
"It's plural for the proper noun Al," Marinette quipped.
"Hush, Daughter. I'm not in the mood for your smarts."
"Please, Als, explain to me what Nin means," Nino sarcastically said.
"Fine, Nin," she said, her voice clipped. "Nin means, um—It's . . . it's an acronym for Never Ingest Nino," she said in all seriousness. "Yeah. And if you do, you get the Nin Disease."
"Umm," they all said. Nino looked at her with a flat expression: eyes set in a blank stare and all facial muscles relaxed.
"Yeah, and all the Als in the world get the Nin Disease because they ate Nino's nuts," Adrien added with a wink, earning a shove from Nino. He laughed as his body was sent backwards, right into Marinette's face.
"Ow!" she yelled as her nose jammed in his shoulder, although she did take the opportunity to take a nice whiff of his cologne. But her throbbing nose was a bigger priority than Adrien's perfume. "You little bastard of all fuckery—"
Alya snickered by a red-faced Nino.
Terribly shy, extremely sassy, open about personal things, innocent at the same time, and scary when angry? That's Wow and WTF bundled up in one person, Adrien thought.
"Sorry, sorry, Marinette!" he said quickly, raising his arms in a defensive stance.
She covered her nose in one hand and her clarinet in the other, which started to look like a lance in her grip. His eyes widened.
"Mari, don't let the Nin Disease get to you," he said seriously, his acting skills making her snarl. "If you touch me, I'll give you AIDS!" he threatened pathetically when she started crawling closer to him.
"AIDS is only transferred through specific body fluids, you dimwit," Nino said, thwacking him upside the head.
Alya started howling, clinging onto Nino as her knees buckled.
At the implication of Adrien's words, both blushed a deep red, Marinette only growing angry and flustered to (unshed) tears.
"You . . . stupid cat!" she screamed, launching at him and jabbing the end of her instrument into his ribs. She repeatedly 'stabbed' him, her cheeks turning darker and darker. "Stupid, pathetic, dumb, ugly cat! You're embarrassing me on purpose, aren't you?!" She was smiling and in happy tears despite her words.
"No! I promise I had no intention of making you feel uncomfortable! Gah! Don't touch my sides! Sorry, I said I was sorry! Mari!"
:..:
Meanwhile with the color guard, they were all playing Fuck, Marry, Kill.
"I would totally marry M Theo," Aurore said, counting off on her fingers, "then I'd kill Mme Mendeleiev, and then I'd, um—"
"C'mon, it's just the F word," Nooroo teased, lightly nudging her.
"Then I'd," she tried again, "f-f-fudge M D'Argencourt." She blushed heavily, hiding her face behind her shades as she ducked her chin into her collarbone.
"Really now?" Sabrina asked.
"Well what do you expect?" Chloe said. "Armand was actually attractive back then." She was too busy inspecting her nails to notice the stares she received. But what she noticed was the silence. She looked up. "What?"
"H-how do you know that?" Pierre asked.
"Daddy used to go to school with him three hundred ninety-seven years ago," she exaggerated.
"Oh . . ."
"Okay Pierre," Nooroo suddenly said. His younger cousin looked up with worried eyes. "Among Choe, Sabrina, and Aurore, who would you . . ."
:..:
"Oh my gosh, Adrien, I'msosorry!"
Marinette held her fingers up to her mouth, her clarinet on the grass. She ran towards Adrien and pulled his hand away from the lower-half of his face.
"Let me see," she said, stepping up onto her toes and leaning her face towards his jaw.
During her tantrum, she rammed her mouthpiece into Adrien's jaw and snapped her reed in half. After he stopped deflecting her stabs and punches, she knew something was wrong. She had backed up and had seen his hands clamped over his chin.
And now she was driving Adrien crazy with her body so close to his. He could smell her shampoo under his nose and watched with unfocused eyes as her fingers pressed against his skin.
"You're not bleeding," she murmured, her breath fanning his lips. She stepped back with a frown on her face. "I'm so sorry, Adrien."
"No, it's fine. Really," he said, rubbing the sore spot with his clammy hands. The initial pain was bad, but it subsided and started to form a bruise. He smiled boyishly. "I'll suck it up."
Her pout only grew. "Sorry. I just get a bit crazy sometimes," she admitted.
Okay. Crazy is now added to the list. Crazy strong.
"If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just tell me." She backed up and looked at the ground for her clarinet.
Adrien smirked.
"Show me your biceps," he said eagerly, sparkles radiating from his hopeful expression. She froze, hunched over her clarinet. She blinked at him, a questioning look on her face, but she couldn't say no to those bulging green eyes and that precious, dimple-forming smile.
Without a word but with slight hesitation, she pulled up her short sleeve and flexed, drawing out a loud roar.
"Woah! You are so ripped!" he exclaimed, running to her side and feeling her muscles.
She blushed, her tight muscles loosening whenever calloused fingers skimmed over the dips and hills of her arms. He was so close to her, his chest lightly touching her shoulder, his tenor pressing against the back of her thighs, and his eager breathing running over her neck and cheeks.
Marinette was doomed. She tightly closed her eyes and bit onto her lips. It's just a crush. Nothing more. And unfortunately, the platonic look in Adrien's eyes seemed to agree with her.
But she didn't know that Adrien was afraid of making her uncomfortable if he looked at her with such a heavy gaze only a person would give his lover. He was being careful with her, controlling himself and moving slowly since he thought he intimidated her. He was the son of a powerful man who ran the most skilled band, after all.
His short-term goal was creating a stable friendship with her. His long-term goal was to ask for her hand in marriage.
. . .
Maybe that's too extreme.
His new long-term goal was asking her out on a date.
Easy. Right?
A/N: Read this if you want. Otherwise, you can skip c:
With every small crush (Frederick, Joseph, etc), those feelings were never reciprocated, and Marinette always knew that. So she found it easy to get over them and move on. But with Alya and Nino breathing down her neck that Adrien likes her, she starts to find it difficult to ignore the urge to ask Adrien out. However, she can't and she's aware of that. This is because she is terrified of getting hurt. Something tragic happened to her while she was in her first relationship, which heavily traumatized her and influenced her to believe that she could never enter a serious relationship. Aka, she's scared of going into a romantic relationship even though she has billions of silly crushes.
Let's just say I hate this chapter the most and I have no idea what i'm writing. ;A;
