Marinette woke, heavy, dazed, and tired. Her cheeks felt stiff, she felt gross, she felt like a mess. She groaned, running a hand over her face, grimacing. She glanced over, finding Alya still passed out beside her, snoring slightly, her red hair a matted mess around her. Marinette shifted, sidling up towards Alya, wrapping her up in a hug, gripping her shirt and pressing her face into Alya's shoulder.
She closed her eyes, just focusing on the heater that was Alya, focused on the smells in the room, the smell of fabrics, of sweets, butter, and bread. Of Alya, smelling like summer, sweat, and books. It was familiar. It was comforting.
And when she drew near, her knee jabbing at Alya's thigh, the sleeping girl gave her a lazy whack, murmuring, "Stop fighting Marinette."
A weak, amused, shaky smile slid up Marinette's lips, murmuring back, "I'm not that bad."
Alya just moaned in response, pulling on of Marinette's pillows closer, letting the dark haired girl snuggle up and hold her tightly.
Marinette opened her eyes, staring at the threads that held Alya's shirt together, feeling soft, small paws wiping Marinette's hair about.
There was a light touch and a soft whisper. "Good morning."
Marinette rubbed her face against Alya's shirt, sighing.
Tikki continued to play with Marinette's hair, soothing and patient, letting her holder have this moment.
It'll pass, Tikki knows.
It'll get better.
It'll just take a bit of time.
And she and Alya will be here to help Marinette reach that point. Tikki spared a glance to the windows, resolute.
Hawkmoth wasn't going to get her chosen.
And thankfully, her chosen wasn't upset enough to act out, for Hawkmoth to reach out for her.
Tikki took it positively.
It was just going to take a bit of time-
Tikki gave a start when Alya shifted, and darted towards the cat pillow, hiding behind it. Alya stretched out, humming loudly, then twisted around, wrapping Marinette up in a hug. She mumbled out, "How much sleep did you get?"
Marinette shrugged. "Four hours?"
She yawned.
"Go back to sleep."
"Been trying."
Alya rubbed her shoulders, reached up and started to play with her hair, loose and free of pigtails. Marinette relaxed under the gentle pulls and tugs, her scalp tingling pleasantly from the play. With well practiced eased, Alya started to weave Marinette's hair into a loose braid, her hands easily moving the short strands about, not even needing to watch what she was doing as she shaped it.
It was relaxing.
The moment slow and calming.
Nothing else in the world but them.
It was perfect.
It was what Marinette needed.
Only to be broken when a growl gurgled up in the air, giving the two a start.
Marinette cracked a small smile while Alya sat up, stretching. "You want anything?" Alya asked.
Marinette shook her head.
"You should eat," Alya said, wiping Marinette's bangs aside.
"Not hungry," Marinette murmured.
"I'm bringing you up something anyway," Alya decided, wiggling her way down the bed, "or at least some tea."
Marinette hummed, and rolled over to the now empty space, trying to grab what she could of the body heat Alya left behind.
As soon as the trapdoor closed, Tikki popped out once more, her smile gentle. "How are you doing?" she asked, drifting down, wiping Marinette's bangs aside.
Marinette sighed, "Tired."
Tikki nodded. It was to be expected. Rejections are exhausting. "It'll pass," the kwami reassured.
Marinette sat up, tiredly looking to Tikki, leaning back on Ches. Marinette moved to ask for how long, when it would get better, only to pause when there was a thud above, one that sounded from the balcony.
Tikki and Marinette shared an alarm look, and Tikki dove down, wiggling down into the shirt's pocket.
Alert, Marinette grabbed the closest pillow, ready to fight whoever would come onto her balcony.
There were only two that could reach it.
Chat and an akuma.
Marinette wasn't in the mood for the latter.
The cat, she would not mind seeing, conscious that Chat can perk up her day sometimes.
When a dark figure peeked down from her trapdoor, and she saw familiar green eyes, Marinette relaxed.
It was Chat.
It was just Chat.
She didn't know why he was visiting, but at least it was him.
She stumbled up, the mattress sinking and shifting under her weight. She pushed the trapdoor open, greeting, "Hey-"
She stiffened, freezing at the sight before her.
It wasn't Chat.
This wasn't her partner.
At a lazy glance, it seemed so.
He was dressed in black, the green of his eyes bright and lovely, his hair a classical mess, and two points sticking out of his head looking like cat ears.
But that's where similarities end.
In an attire similar to Chat's, though a bit with an medieval theme, his cat ears set on the mask, standing tall and proud on top of the black mask he wore, easy to mistake for Chat's ears. There was a small golden bell that kept a blue scarf clasped around his neck, one that stretched longer than a scarf should over the akuma's back, and Marinette blinked to see the edge of the scarf move like a tail, curling and rolling about.
She gripped the edge of her trapdoor's opening, watching the akuma, her mind flying.
The akuma smiled, holding out a familiar clawed gloved hand. "Marinette," he whispered, his voice fond, his shoulders hunched up, almost looking shy.
She gulped, leaning back a bit, eyes wide. "Ad-Adrien…?"
Her mind went blank, her body feeling cold.
No way. There was no way.
That, this, this was impossible. Adrien couldn't be, how could he be...
His smile grew, green eyes shining. He gently took her hand, correcting, "Sir Night actually. Here to help my Princess."
Marinette stared at him, surprised, brow furrowing.
Princess?
Adrien never called her Princess.
The only one that ever called her Princess was-
Marinette jerked back when he reached for her.
Sir Night paused, his smile small and patient. "I'm not going to hurt you," he promised. "I'm here to help. To make it better." Just as he should. A good knight always cares for his princess.
Marinette shakily reassured, "I-I have help, th-thanks though Adri-S-Sir Night." With a frown, she asked, "What, what happened? Why are you?"
"You were upset," he said, making her squeak as he scooped her up, easily sliding her through the trapdoor, and pulled her into a gentle hug. "I was so bothered that you were upset. I had to make it better some how."
She was tense in his arms, then relaxed, slumping against the warm body that held her. She gave a small shake of her head, murmuring, "You can't."
He tightened his grip on her for a moment. "I can," he said.
"You can't Adrien," she said. "I, you… you can't make this better."
It was amazing and touching that he wanted to, that he cared and was upset to hurt her feelings. It was so touching and the fact filled her with such warmth and happiness, but it also brought in so much pain at the reminder of yesterday. That no matter how sweet his efforts were there was nothing he can do.
It, it was just life.
It was something neither had control over. And she was touched knowing that he was upset with this but… this was nothing he could do to help, nothing he could do to make this better. She, they, they both just needed time.
It wasn't ideal but it was the truth.
She'll get better, past her rejection, they'll be solid friends she knows they will.
They just, she just needed time.
She gave his arm a squeeze, allowing herself to lean into this embrace, offer comfort back to him of this truth, this reality that there was nothing he could do.
In the back of her mind, responsibility poked her.
Adrien was an akuma.
As sweet as his efforts were, she couldn't leave him like this.
Ladybug had to take care of him.
A task she wasn't emotionally up for.
She felt him tighten his hold on her, resting his cheek on top of her head.
Quietly, she murmured, "You should go see Ladybug." She felt him shift, perking at the name. "She needs to cleanse you Adrien."
"I would love to see Ladybug," Sir Night murmured, his voice laced with such fondness and admiration, it made Marinette squirm in his hold, trying to get a look at him, see his expression.
Only to squeak when he shifted her in his arms, holding her up bridal style as he stood. "But I need to help you first!"
Marinette scrambled, "Adrien you can't-"
"It's not impossible Princess!" he declared a wink.
She instinctively grabbed his shoulders as he moved, carrying his Princess away to where he thinks he could help make her happy again, ignoring her protests, so set on this idea that he can make it all better.
She'll see.
Sir Night knows she will.
She'll smile again soon.
He'll make sure of it.
Down below in Marinette's room, Alya popped up, declaring, "Alright, I got some tea and croissants and I'm thinking maybe we can move downstairs and flop on the couch…"
Alya trailed when she reached the top of the loft, blinking at the empty bed, turning her honey eyes up to the trapdoor. "Marinette?" she called.
But there was no answer.
There was no Marinette in the bed at all.