Author's Note: Many thanks to pinksakura271 for using Clumsinette and inspiring me to totally steal it for this fic.

So once again Marinette did not sleep well.

At this rate Chat Noir was going to kill her through sleep deprivation before he successfully wooed her.

Marinette blearily made her way through the school day and so far she had yet to find another gift from Chat Noir. Her desk has been clear all day and her locker had been empty, she wasn't sure whether she was disappointed or not as the cloud of tiredness suffocated any other emotion out of her.

To make things worse her day didn't end after school either as she had to meet with Alya in the library to work on another school project (didn't her teachers have anything better to do than assign her homework and ridiculously time consuming projects?) and as she virtually sleepwalked her way down the corridor she suddenly tripped over something and sent her school bag (not her little pink one with Tiki in, thank goodness!) flying across the floor. Her books and pencils fell out and scattered along the linoleum tiles.

Chloe cackled maliciously. "God Clumsinette," she said as nastily and loudly as possible, "can't you watch where you're going?"

Marinette shot a hateful glare up at Chloe as she scrambled to pick up her things. Not that the snobby blonde noticed as she now walked away laughing evilly at her own wit.

"Here."

Marinette glanced up to see Adrien standing over her with her schoolbag held out in his hand. She immediately shot up (and promptly dropped the books she had managed to gather up) and flushed bright pink.

"A-A-A-Adrien!" she stuttered out. "You thank, I, gah, thank you!" she managed to gurgle out as she accepted her bag back. "You didn't have too!"

She danced with glee on the inside that she managed at least one coherent sentence without stammering in front of Adrien.

"No," Adrien said firmly, "Chloe didn't have to trip you over," he frowned at that, "I should have words with her," he muttered darkly as he bent down to gather Marinette's books.

Marinette was thrilled at how chivalric and gentlemanly Adrien was behaving towards her. It made her swoon ever so slightly but she was able to keep herself collected and not spaz out.

"Don't," Marinette said wearily, "I know you mean well but it'll only make things worse," Chloe would, of course, only blame Marinette for stirring up trouble between her and Adrien and then go all out in trying to make Marinette's life a living hell. It was easier for everyone if Adrien stayed out of it. "I can handle Chloe on my own." Adrien stood up and passed Marinette her books which she accepted with ease (despite the fact that the mere brush of his fingers against hers sent her heart racing and fireworks going off right beneath her skin). "Thanks though," she said quietly.

Adrien clasped her shoulder and Marinette bit down on her lip to prevent a squeal of delight to escape her mouth. "You don't have to though," he said softly, "fight Chloe on your own. I'll always have your back."

"T-t-t-th-th-thanks!"

Adrien smiled his beautiful, soft, smile. "You're welcome, Pr- Marinette," he said as he shifted his own bag on his shoulder, "I have to go now. I hope you have a good weekend, see you on Monday."

"S-s-see you on Moonday – Monday!" she corrected herself hastily. "I'll see you on Monday!"

She could smack herself, seriously, she could. It might actually knock the stutter out and some sense back in its place.

As soon as Adrien turned round the corner she slumped against the wall and sighed dreamily. "He touched my shoulder!" she squealed quietly. "I'm never washing my jacket again!"

"You said that the last time," Tiki poked her head out, "and remember how well that ended?"

Marinette grimaced at that. "All right, I won't never wash my jacket," she promised as flashbacks of her mother dragging Marinette's jacket off of her as she entered the living room haunted her.

"Good," Tiki smiled approvingly, "now aren't you going to be late for your study meeting?"

"Oh no!" Marinette gasped. "Alya!"

And with that she ran the whole way to the school library.

Fortunately though Alya was not annoyed with Marinette being late (it was rather insulting how expectant Alya was about it in fact as the redheaded girl had started to compose her new blog post while she waited) and they settled down to start on their project. It was a good twenty or so minutes later when Marinette needed a pen that she went into her schoolbag and found it.

A brown paper bag with a note sellotaped to it.

The note was, of course, addressed to Marinette and was, once again, typed entirely.

Marinette gasped.

"What?" Alya looked up abruptly. "What is it?!"

"I got another one!" Marinette whispered back loudly as she held up the brown paper bag. "He managed to sneak it into my schoolbag."

"How?!"

"I don't know!"

Marinette really didn't know how Chat Noir managed to pull this one off. After all it wasn't like her desk where he would just have to sneak into her classroom or with her locker where he simply just had to break in. she had her school bag on her at all times and went through it regularly. There was no way he could have snuck it in without her knowing, without her seeing him doing it, without her catching him in the act.

And yet, he succeeded in doing that entirely.

"Well!" Alya hissed impatiently. "Go on then! Open it!"

Marinette carefully pried the note off of the paper bag and unfolded it. "On the third day of Valentine," she read out loud, "my true love gave to me, three fine threads."

Confused, Marinette then opened the brown paper bag and shook it upside down. Three bundles of slightly different shades of red thread fell out onto the desk.

"Thread?!" Alya cried out disappointed. "And not even in different colours! Huh….he's slipping down on the romance scale there."

"No," Marinette whispered, "he isn't."

Because for a start it wasn't just any sort of thread it was the finest and best sort of thread you can get. It was strong and durable and made of a better quality material than normal thread was. They were all individually wrapped in white labels with a familiar brand printed on them and it wasn't a brand Marinette could ever afford in her lifetime.

It was the brand design labels like the Agreste one would use.

Chat Noir was showing that he had an interest in what Marinette liked to do.

But it wasn't just that…

"Girl," Alya said, "I know you like sewing but it's not as if he gifted you with a whole box of rainbow colours. If he had done that then I might find it somewhat roman-"

"Red thread!" Marinette interrupted with a terrified squeak. "Back in Asia there are stories that soulmates are connected to one another by a red string of fate that is tied to their pinkies."

"Really?!" Alya cried out ecstatically. "So your secret admirer is basically saying that you're his soulmate?! Oh! Marinette! That's so romantic!"

It was.

Incredibly so.

But it was also utterly, painfully, terrifying.

MLBMLBMLBMLBMLBMLBMLB

Chat Noir didn't go to Marinette's home that evening because they had night patrol instead. Therefore he waited impatiently on the Eiffel Tower shifting back and forth on his feet as he couldn't wait to see what she thought of his latest gift. His eagerness had caused him to be twenty minutes early and it felt like an eternity to him but it was all worth it when he saw Ladybug swing towards him.

"Good evening, My Lady," he purred out, "and how are you on this fine evening?"

"Hi Chat," She mumbled quietly, her eyes downcast and her hands clasped tightly, "I'm good."

Chat frowned in concern at this. There was something utterly off about her behaviour. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly. "Did something happen today? Chloe didn't do anything else today?"

"I'm fine," Ladybug replied shortly. "We should start patrolling. I'll take east and you can take west." She pulled out her yoyo and got ready to fling it out. "I'll see you in a couple of ho-"

"No," Chat said firmly as he grabbed her wrist, "something's wrong, what is it?" Ladybug refused to answer as she tried to tug her arm out of his grip. "Tell me!" Chat pressed. "I can't help you if you don't tell me. What the matter?"

"Nothing!"

"You're a terrible liar, bugaboo," Chat pointed out. He tried to sound light and cheery but it came out strained with concern and worry. "Please," he said pleadingly, "what's wrong?"

"I….I….got your gift today," she said reluctantly, "it….surprised me."

He licked his lips nervously. "You….didn't like it?" he asked anxiously. "I know it doesn't seem much after the necklace and the chocolate but I thought you might know about the red string of fate and-"

"I know about the red string of fate!" she interrupted abruptly. "I was told those stories growing up."

"Oh," relief flooded through him, for a moment he had been worried that she didn't realise what his gesture had meant and thought he lost interest. "So then why-?"

"Do you really believe we're soulmates?" she asked curtly. "That we are really tied together by the red string of fate?"

"Of course," he said simply, "I told you before at the very beginning. We're made for each other."

And he truly, whole-heartedly, believed it and finding out that she was Marinette had only cemented that believe.

They were so similar and yet so different that there was no other explanation than they were made to fit each other. To balance each other out. To be partners. They shared the same interests in music, video games, films, and they liked the same food, they liked the same people (well, almost, Chloe was the rare exception and even he felt pushed to the limits in patience with her), and they had a similar sense of humour.

And then where they differed they only complimented one another. Where she was artistic and creative he was academic and a great reader, where she could barely speak their own language out of nerves he could speak multiple, where he couldn't cook for toffee, she could bake beautifully.

She was a fashion designer and he was a model.

They just fitted perfectly.

Ladybug, however, didn't seem to agree as she just looked horrified. Her skin was a chalky pale colour beneath her mast and her eyes were wide with fear. "So," she whispered, "I don't have a choice at all?"

He blinked, startled, and it was just on the tip of his tongue to reassure her that of course she had a choice when she suddenly raised a hand up to silence. "No," she shook her head, "don't answer that. I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Okay," he mumbled.

"I-I-I think I'll just do my patrol and go straight home," she stammered out, "you should do the same. We can patrol again on Monday, yeah?"

"Monday works for me," he said numbly, "I'll see you then."

A total lie by she didn't need to know that right now.

He reached out to take her hand for his customary hand kiss but she vanished into the night before he could touch her and left him grasping thin air. Miserable and confused, he worked through his share of the patrol in a haze before he headed home.

His transformation wore off and Plagg immediately dived into his desk drawer from some cheese.

"I don't understand," he said softly, "why is she so scared?"

"Eh," Plagg shrugged with his mouth full, "don't take this the wrong way, Kid, but you're kinda intense. You probably freaked her out a bit with all that soul mate stuff." He took another bite of his cheese and chewed thoughtfully.

"Yes," Adrien murmured, "but why did it freak her out?"

"I dunno," Plagg shrugged again, "Tiki's chosen are always tend to over think things and then there's just the fact you humans are so complicated and messy with your emotions." He shoved the last of the cheese into his mouth. "Perhaps you should quit while you're ahead?" he suggested as he accidentally spat out tiny bits of cheese. "Save yourself the heartbreak."

Adrien grimaced in disgust. "No," he decided after a silent beat of thought, "This is my chance to show her how much she means to me. I'm not going to give up at the first wobble. That's not how relationships work."

"All right," Plagg said unbothered, "but maybe dial it down a little bit? I think what you have planned for tomorrow might just make the Princess jump on the nearest plane out of France."

"No," Adrien said quietly but firmly as he traced the music sheets left on his desk, "it's too late to cancel for a start," he explained without being asked, "and it gives me an opening to talk to her about this."

"Your choice," Plagg shrugged, "but I still think you should have stuck with cheese. You can't go wrong with cheese."

Adrien begged to differ.

Marinette would have never forgiven him if he filled her locker up with stinky cheese.