Duplicity
LadyNoir/Adrienette
When Adrien had asked her out, all those weeks ago, Marinette had felt indescribably confused. No sooner had she come to the conclusion that she had fallen in love with her best friend that the world had decided to test her conviction. It had been …
It had been really hard to reject him.
She'd thought about it for days, wavering between feeling stupid, feeling okay, feeling like she'd lost something, mostly feeling like it didn't matter. There had never been any indication that Adrien would see her in that kind of light. It had been so simple to say she loved Chat, harder to say she loved Chat more than she could ever love Adrien.
The truth was, Marinette had not fallen out of love with Adrien; having worked with him so frequently. She'd come to really treasure their escapades – ducking out on photoshoots to grab food from her parents, impromptu visits to all the Parisian attractions Parisians never seemed to visit. (The photo on her desk at work, of she and he at the Louvre, bunny ears behind each other's heads…)
It's just that she'd fallen equally in love with Chat Noir, maybe more since he knew her every expression, could tell when she was scared, or sad, had risked his life for hers. Marinette would sacrifice herself a dozen times or more to talk to Chat even for just one more day. That was the real difference, Marinette figured; she'd probably do the same for Adrien, but it was just a hypothetical. She knew, with complete certainty, that if Chat asked or needed anything of her, there would be no why, no thinking, no weighing options. That was her relationship with him: dynamic and unshakable.
When Chat is Adrien … or when Adrien is Chat (it's hard to think about; it's so ridiculously simple) Marinette is laughing so hard she has to put her head in her hands. Or maybe she's crying. Or maybe it's both. She never imagined she could feel so happy, for something as stupid as falling for the same person … twice, in two completely different ways for way, way too long.
"Marinette?" says Chat, unsure. (Says Adrien, unsure.) His hand is reached out for her, like he wants to touch her, but he stop short of putting it on her shoulder, so it hovers between them.
Marinette knows she's shaking, but she's not quite ready to lift her head, not quite sure she can look at him, not feel giddy, not feel nervous, not be completely embarrassing.
"Are you disappointed?" he finally asks, letting his hand fall. He sounds defeated. For a moment Marinette says nothing; when she lifts her head she can see the turmoil playing in his eyes, he looks so unsure. It occurs to her that Adrien can't possibly understand what she's thinking, can't know how hard it had been to reject him that day, can't know how much she loves Chat – how much she loves him – under every mask, from all angles.
"The furthest I could possibly be from it," Marinette laughs, surprising him. "can I kiss you?"
Adrien, not trusting himself to speak, a little surprised, nods. Marinette takes two steps, pulls him down to her, and Adrien feels like he can breathe again. All of his worries feel arbitrary when Marinette kisses him, giggling into his lips; laughing into hers.
...
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..
...
"Oh my god," Marinette mutters, bolting out of a dead sleep, four months later, jostling Adrien awake next to her.
"What?" he mutters, instinctively reaching for his ring, his hair is sticking up at odd angles, a cow lick in the back, and he is clearly out of it. Marinette whirls on him, staring with wild eyes.
"Chat Noir saw my room in high school…" she trails, horror stricken, remembering all 32 photos and posters of Adrien Agreste which had been strewn across her walls at the time, all those years ago, when Chat Noir had crashed through her window and promptly given her a very, very confused head tilt. Thirty-two, she thinks.
Adrien blinks slowly, seeming to think, and then a devilish grin splits across his face.
"Good night, Marinette," he purrs, turns over, goes back to sleep.
Original AN posted on AO3:
There were quite a few commenters who expressed a certain amount of displeasure at where this fic left off. To quell the feeling of dissatisfaction, I've written a small something something to tie up this story in a little bow.
It's probably not as well written as the first chapter, and certainly shorter, but I hope it's satisfying.
(And seriously, to everyone who commented: you were all so, so kind. I will eventually respond to everyone; but in the mean time this chapter is for you. Without you, it wouldn't even exist. Thank you!)
And an additional note to FF . net
I'll respond to the reviews here, too, because they were all so nice! But in the meantime. You were right about the laughing. ^^; I'm in cliche hell.