A/N: Well, according to plan this chapter was supposed to be from Marinette POV (if you have not noticed yet, I'm alternating between their POV in every chapter :P). However, it just didn't felt right, so here, enjoy a little more of my sweet little Adrien.

As he made his way toward his car, Adrien dearly blessed the habit he had made of staying away from any type of alcohol in every social apparition he made. A clear mind was more often than not needed to steer himself away from unwanted attention from media or unwillingly letting slip too much personal information to nosy reporters, and through the years the habit had become so deeply rooted in him that it had only felt natural for him to keep the same barely touched champagne glass all night. And now, as he slipped behind the steering wheel of his car with all his brain fully functional, he was really glad he had. He pulled out his phone to enter Marinette's address into his GPS application, only to notice he had a few missed messages:
[Ladybug] Call me.
[Ladybug] Ccamn u plz call me&?
[Ladybug] Can*
Adrien went still for a second. Never before his Lady had manifested any interest on talking to him any other way than via sms. And never had she made that many typos in a five words long message.

It worried him to great lengths, but he couldn't shake off the gut clenching worries he felt toward his old high school friend at the same time. Hesitating, in typed in Marinette's address into the GPS application, checking the arrival time estimation. He had about twelve minutes ahead of him before reaching her place. His pianist fingers slid on the small screen, connecting the device to the Bluetooth system of his car, and hesitated a second or two before pressing the small green button next to Ladybug contact's information. It rang for a few seconds without her picking up, and he was about to disconnect the call when he heard a muffled sound on the other side of the line, followed by a soft:
"Hello?"
He smiled softly to himself, putting his car into motion.
"Hey there princess. Are you alright?"
A soft giggle came to his ears, making him smile even wider:
"Your voice is warm and sexy kitty. I like it."
Taken aback by her sluggish voice and the direction the conversation had taken, Adrien stuttered:
"P-p-princess? Are you okay?"
She hummed lightly before breathing quietly:
"I'm just… feeling lonely tonight. Very lonely. I-I just wanted to hear a friendly voice. I'm sorry."

Adrien knew what he wanted to answer to that statement. That he wanted nothing more than to be a part of her life, to hold her in his arms and make sure neither of them ever felt lonely anymore. But he knew better than to pressure her, perfectly aware it would only cancel the little progress they had made that night: he was talking to her, hearing her actual voice without the security net provided by texting each other. They didn't have time to think about what they said, rewriting the same message three or four times before sending it. It was unnerving and yet exhilarating. Not wanting to blow this up, he went with a safe reply:
"Don't be sorry princess. I'm always there for you, you know that. It's pretty late though, what's keeping you up?"
He heard a long sigh and some ruffling, as she was shifting in her bed or something. Then she spoke again, her voice definitely sluggish and drowsy:
"I ran into some… old acquaintances tonight… and it made me realize I wasted my life away…"
As he followed the GPS directions from one ear, Adrien couldn't help but shake his head:
"Don't say that. You just graduated, you landed the job of your dreams, you have some awesome friends, including the nosy best friend and your knight in shining armor. Your life has just begun princess."

Something broke in her voice, and he was sure he heard sniffling.
"I'm sick of coming home to emptiness. Sometimes I wish I was less of a lame coward and could come home to you…"
Adrien audibly gasped at that statement, but the young woman went on with her tirade, her words coming out more and more indolent:
"But noooooooooo… I have to be this broken and insecure poor thing that can't will herself to come out of the safety of hiding behind her phone…"
The young man wondered what could have happened to put her in such a state of mind, but she didn't let him question it out loud, pursuing even more sluggishly than before:
"Y'know, when I get lonely like that… I often wonder… What my life would have been if I had chosen another path? It would have been about three years old by now."
"Princess? Are you drunk or something?"
"Maybe it would have red hair and blue eyes. Would it have been a boy or a girl? Would it have been an artist? And then I realize I won't ever know, because I made a decision with my fucking brain, a decision my heart never fully agreed on."

Adrien's heart began beating furiously in his chest, his throat suddenly feeling tight and dry. He was perfectly aware she was rambling, that she was letting him on secrets she probably hadn't intended to share with him in the first place. His train of thoughts was disrupted by heavy breathing on the other side of the line:
"Princess? My lady?"
Seeing as he never got an actual answer, he figured she must have drifted off to sleep, and reluctantly disconnected the call. He wasn't sure exactly what had just happened, but he pushed those questions at the back of his mind, pulling up in front of Marinette's building and shifting his attention back on his old friend.

Apparently, tonight was going to be all about distraught young ladies.

Just as Alya had figured, he rang the doorbell twice without getting any answer. Wincing a little at the thought he may be witnessing something he decently shouldn't, he pulled out the key the bride had entrusted him with and quietly let himself in the young woman's apartment. Adrien then found himself in a dim-lighted cosy living room fully furnished, with a huge dark leather couch covered with thick fuzzy blankets. A pink armchair was in the corner of the room, overlooked by a reading lamp, currently the only source of lighting. A decent sized flat-screen TV was hung on the opposite wall of the couch, framed with all sorts of books and video games.

And curled up in a fetal position on the couch, her hot pink dress making a stunning contrast on the dark leather, safely clutching her phone in her right hand, was sleeping soundly a clearly upset Marinette. She looked like a little girl, sleeping hunched on herself like that, and that strongly strung a protective chord in him. Adrien wanted nothing more than to comfort her, washing away her worries and protect her from further harm. Her makeup had smudged and left dark streaks on her cheeks making it obvious she had been crying, and loose strands had fallen out of her bun. His heart heavy with concern toward one of his oldest friends, Adrien carefully kneeled besides her, patting her arm reassuringly:
"Hey Mari, let's get you to bed, okay?"
She stirred up a little, opening her eyes lazily, softly breathing:
"Adrien…"
"You're home safe. Alya sent me to check on you. I'm going to clean your face, help you change into something comfortable and then put you to bed okay?"
She nodded hazily, barely reacting as he removed her shoes before scooping her up bridal style.
"Where's your bedroom?"
Locking her arms snugly around his neck, she rested her head against his shoulder.
"At the back, just after the bathroom."

He marveled at how calm and trusting she was in his arms, wondering if she was aware the slightest of what was currently happening. Considering her past, he had been fully expecting her to shy away from his touch in a way or another. And yet there she was, her slender arms safely locked around his neck, eyes fully closed as she let him carry her through her apartment. She didn't question what he was doing there, why he was there. She clearly trusted him, entirely, and that unsettled him. He had done nothing to be worthy of such a level of trust from his blackette friend, and he promised himself to never do anything that would make her regret it.

He unmade her bed with one hand before carefully deposited her on it. Retreating back to her bathroom, he scanned her toiletry products, silently thanking his modeling years as he knew exactly what it was he needed. Grabbing her makeup remover and some cotton wads, he went back to a drowsy Marinette.
"I'm going to clean your face, okay Mari?"
She nodded sleepily, humming softly in agreement. With steady hands, he dabbed the cotton wads into the cleansing product and carefully erased the smudged makeup from her features. She visibly leaned into his touch, the ghost of a smile dancing on her lips.
"S'nice. Thanks."
Once he was done with removing her makeup, the blond helped her to a sitting position.
"Do you need help getting out of your dress? I can fetch pajamas for you if you want."
"Third drawer of the dresser. Please."
Nodding, Adrien got up and opened the indicated drawer, pulling out an oversize cotton t-shirt. When he came back to her side, he noticed she was struggling with the zipper of her dress.
"Allow me?" he asked tentatively, surprised to see her breathe quietly:
"Please."

He made his best to avert his eyes as he helped her out of the chiffon garment and into the t-shirt. He could imagine sleeping with a bra on wouldn't be the most comfortable thing to do, but he had cross so many boundaries that night that he decided against pushing his luck even further. So he simply helped her lay back down on her bed, tucking her in tightly and resisted the urge to kiss her forehead. Marinette looked so fragile, so vulnerable as she laid there half asleep, looking at him through heavy lidded eyes. He couldn't fathom how one could want to hurt such an innocent creature.

When he got up to leave though, she whispered faintly, stopping him dead in his tracks:
"Stay. Until I've fallen asleep. Please."
By that point, it was clear Adrien couldn't refuse her anything. So he sat on the floor besides Marinette's bed, gently stroking the dark strands of hair until her breathing became deep and steady, indicating without mistake she had fallen back into a deep slumber. He left her a tall glass of water on her bedside table along with some aspirin to take care of the impending hangover, and retreated halfheartedly.

Had Adrien wandered into her kitchen before leaving, locking the door back behind him, he might have noticed the ginger ball of fur sleeping soundly into the kitchen sink and that looked eerily just like the picture of Tikki Ladybug had sent him earlier that week.

Had Adrien sent his goodnight message to Ladybug not even thirty seconds before he did, he might have heard Marinette's phone chime in response from the couch where it laid forgotten.

But he did neither.