Marinette's fingers danced along the back of Alya's dress, quickly and skillfully lacing the white satin ribbon. She hesitated, feeling just how much tension laced the muscles underneath her hands. Marinette squeezed her best friend's shoulder in support. Alya's hand covered hers, "Thanks, Mari. I don't know what I would do without you."
Marinette stepped back a little, admiring her work, "Turn around," she asked softly, and her friend shyly obliged, eyes shining with pent-up emotion. Looking at herself in the floor length mirror, Alya found herself speechless for the first time in her life.
Marinette squealed in utter delight. "You look perfect perfect, Alya! Truly, you're beautiful." The dress fit her body like a glove, enhancing the unique features Alya loved about herself while concealing the bits she wasn't too fond of. "Nino's a lucky man," she whispered, carefully pinning the veil in place.
The redhead teared up once more, prompting Marinette to raise a warning hand. "Hey! No more crying, you're going to ruin your makeup again and we don't have enough time to start over a third time!"
The bride smiled and laughed softly as she absentmindedly smoothed the folds of the magnificent skirt. "You're right Mari. Sorry, I'm a little emotional. I know I'm marrying the love of my life today and the dress is perfect and I look perfect…" her voice caught for a moment "I couldn't have done it without you. You look stunning too, by the way."
Marinette grinned smugly at the praise. While Alya's wedding dress was definitely her true tour de force considering the time she had been given to pull it off, the dress she had designed for herself truly made her chest swell with pride. The dress was a soft A-line with a flowy, knee-length skirt made out of a hot pink chiffon that complemented her complexion.
Draping the flounce around the back of the garment had been a nightmare, but it had been worth it. That detail made the look more aerial, and the sweetheart neckline was daring without being too revealing. Her faithful, black leather kitten heels perfectly completed the look, making her feel sexy, yet still confident she wasn't going to trip and break her neck. Marinette was really proud of herself.
Marinette's phone chimed with a text from Rose. She quickly checked it and tugged on Alya's hand, snapping both of them out of their respective daydreams. "Come on girl! Rose is about to go down the aisle, then it's only me and the best man before you, and your dad is already waiting for you. I bet Alya Césaire wouldn't want to be late for her grand entrance, now, would she?"
She only got a weak giggle as an answer, but that was more than fine for Marinette. Her friend was a bundle of nerves at the moment. She had worked herself up since the second she woke up that morning about everything that could possibly go wrong on her big day: from Nino getting cold feet to the cake being the wrong color. Marinette had assure her of everything, from an emergency call to the groom to reminding her that her parents had everything under control. But Marinette knew Alya was worrying for nothing: Nino and she were simply meant to be through ups and downs, thick and thin, for better or for worse.
As both girls made their way down the hall hand in hand, the very proud maid of honor softly nudged the glowing bride. "Say, you never ended up telling me who Nino finally settled on to be his best man? Please tell me he didn't really choose Ivan after all, I'll look like a tiny, little bug next to him."
Alya suddenly shifted oddly, uneasiness obvious on her face. "Umm, Mari, about that, there's something I need to—" only to get cut by a man's voice. "Mari! Alya! Boy, don't you you both look stunning!"
Marinette stopped dead in her tracks right then, causing Alya to almost run into her.
Turned out Marinette would have recognized the best man anywhere.
In a sea full of people, she'd easily be able to pick out those grassy green eyes that had haunted her for so long.
Truth be told, the years really had treated him well. The lines of his face were more defined, the roundness of his childhood long gone along his cheeks and his now chiseled jaw. His shoulders were definitely broader, and he now stood almost a head taller than her. He was wearing a light gray cotton button up under a very deep dark gray suit perfectly cut for him. The silver and fashionable cufflinks contrasted prettily with the dark fabric of his suit, a clever detail worthy of the model.
But what caught Marinette's eye above everything else, making her breath hitch in her throat, was his tie.
A silky, hot pink tie.
The exact same shade of her dress.
A dress that nobody besides Alya and her had seen before that exact second. Given how little time they had had to prepare the wedding, there hadn't been an exact colour shade assigned to the bridesmaids. Alya had deemed any shade of pink adequate, so the dresses of the others ranged from baby pink to fuschia.
To match her dress so perfectly, Adrien's tie had obviously been supplied by her treacherous best friend so they'd match as they went down the aisle together.
Marinette forced herself to breathe so she wouldn't pass out on the spot. All the feelings she had tried so hard to keep bottled up and forgotten somewhere deep down her currently malfunctioning brain came back, washing over her all at once. Not even five feet from her was standing Adrien Agreste, looking handsome as hell, and he was smiling at her.
"Hey Mari, long time no see!"
When Marinette didn't react, he shifted his attention to the lady of the hour, placing a peck on each cheek while grinning widely. "Wow Alya, Nino won't know what hit him. You truly are gorgeous."
The bride chuckled softly, blushing a little. "Thanks, Adrien, it means the world to me and Nino that you made it back on time."
"I wouldn't have missed this even if it meant swimming my way up the Seine," the blond smiled back.
Marinette barely registered the words exchanged between them. She was desperately trying to kick her mind gears back into function. Somehow, somewhere in her shocked state, she faintly noticed the doors opening to let the last bridesmaid in. Adrien offered her his arm a few seconds later with a warm smile intended for her and her only. She had had five years to get over him, why was she still getting so flustered over such a simple touch?
She didn't find the answer as she let Adrien lead her down the aisle, trying with all her might to stop her whirling thoughts from assaulting her already wounded heart.
The ceremony went by smoothly, even though Marinette never fully reconnected with with her surrounding. She was hyper-aware of Adrien's proximity, and it was driving her utterly insane. She clapped along with everyone else when the minister finally declared Nino and Alya husband and wife, and absentmindedly followed the newlyweds to the reception. She ate her meal, smiled, and made small talk with the other guests, gushing about how the newlyweds were perfect for each other.
When the time came, Marinette somehow managed to give her well-rehearsed maid of honor speech, explaining in great lengths just how much Nino had managed to wiggle his way in both Alya and her lives, dragging his best friend along and making their friendship a quartet. Adrien then stepped in, underlining how much Alya had been a good influence on Nino, helping him improve his grades to widen his options in university, and helping him to open doors with his music.
Truth be told, the whole wedding was absolutely perfect, living up to Alya's wildest hopes and dreams.
However, Marinette was barely able to keep herself together.
She felt shallow, an empty shell since seeing Adrien again. She had been so sure that she didn't have feeling for him anymore, so certain that her days of pining over the kind model were over. But the way her heart had made a somersault in her chest after barely laying eyes on him said otherwise. It was too much. Everything was changing, the last week had been a whirlwind of emotions and life-changing events, and now, seeing a man that had the power to easily break her already shattered heart again was her undoing.
Alya kept casting worried glances at her over the crowd of guests, but Marinette didn't acknowledge them.
Wandering aimlessly through the guests, Marinette clutched her glass of champagne like a lifeline, replacing her empty glass with a full one whenever she passed by a server. The bubbles soothed her in an odd and unfamiliar way, even as she knew she was probably drinking way too much. Warmth pooled into her stomach as she leaned back against a wall, trying to steady the room dancing around her.
Why did Adrien still have that kind of effect on her? After all these years?
It was unfair to be vulnerable like this, for him to have this kind of power over her without even knowing it. A single smile, and she was head over heels like a hormonal teenager. She tried her best to avoid looking at the devilishly handsome blond unknowingly turning her into an emotional wreck.
The blurrier her thoughts got, the less distraught she felt, so Marinette welcomed the buzz by raising another glass to it, drowning her memories in champagne.
That's how she ended up colliding with a masculine chest and looking up to familiar worried eyes. "Hey Mari, are you okay?"
She giggled, "Y-y-yeah! Why? Jus-s-t another drink and I'll be… fine."
The man before her frowned. "Okay you've clearly had enough," he said, plucking the glass from her hand despite her slurred protests, "I'm driving you home."
Marinette didn't have the strength to argue or fight back. She wanted nothing more but to bury herself in the covers and never come back out. She willingly let the man lead her to an unfamiliar car without bothering to say goodbye to anyone.
This was all Alya's fault. If she had known Adrien would be there, maybe she could have braced herself about seeing him again.
...who was she kidding. It was all her own fault. Her and her treacherous, weak heart.
She curled up on the front seat, knees under her chin, resting her forehead against the cool window.
She woke up lost and disoriented when her improvised designated driver gently shook her shoulder. "Sorry Mari, I would have preferred to carry you upstairs without waking you up, but I don't have the key anymore. Besides, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
Marinette rubbed her eye, she must have fallen asleep on the way over. She tried to recall why she hated him, and when she didn't find a reason, she just mumbled unintelligibly. "S's's'okay Nate… Thanks."
She made her way to the front door on wobbly legs, fumbled to unlock it, and tripped over her own feet as she stumbled along the hallway to her apartment and finally dropped on her couch. Her bed seemed so far away, she couldn't summon the will to drag her sorry ass into it.
She groaned, suddenly feeling even more miserable than she had before. She had deserted Alya's wedding, drunk out of her mind. Then she had let Nathanael of all people drive her home. And most of all, she had let herself get flustered by the mere sight of a man she hadn't seen in years. A man that most likely hadn't spent a single second thinking about her in the last five years.
Her fingers felt completely useless. She tried to pull her phone from her clutch but she had trouble coordinating her movements. After a few minutes, Marinette finally managed to get her phone out of her purse and successfully unlocked it with unsteady hands. She hesitated for a second, still feeling like a pathetic mess, before typing out a text.
Marinette groaned loudly and let her head fall back on her couch. She clutched at her hair and wished that her surroundings would stop spinning around her.