Dear Journal,

I thought you were supposed to be excited on your wedding day, and even though I am, I feel like a bundle of nerves and pace my room. Finally, Felix comes to get me and after a quick Starbucks stop, we head over to the beauty salon.

I know Marinette's here too, but I won't be allowed to see her until we meet at the alter. "You'll be to busy getting pretty anyway," my hair stylist too, and I laugh aloud, settling my nerves. I'm sure Marinette saw red yesterday when I suggested I just "take a wash" as Cat Noir to get ready for today.

I find out my stylist is named Lavender, and she asks me questions about my time as a model. "I've always admired you," she says, and I want to groan internally. If only people knew the real Adrien Agreste, the shy boy who lets out his playful side around ones he trusts. But then Lavender surprises me. "You've never be uppity or put on airs. Normally, I would be corrected about twenty times by now if I was working with another model." "I'm sorry for that," I tell, and silently say sorry to her in my head. "My mother was the one who taught me to work hard, but to also play hard."

Finally, I'm deemed ready, and am whisked to the church to change and wait for my bride. I change into my tuxedo and head up to one of the rooms to wait. About an hour later, I'm ushered through a small side door and find myself on the altar, watching as our guests fill the seats.

My heart begins to pound and my hands sweat, and then I have a nervous thought. If I'm nervous about the crowd, how will Marinette fare? Then I have a idea. "Plagg, go with Marinette down the aisle and if she starts looking nervous tell her a cheesy joke." "Cheese is nothing to joke about, Adrien." Plagg sniffs, "And now you owe me a wheel of cheese." I roll my eyes as he zooms off.

And just in time to, for two minutes later, Marinette steps into the church, holding her bouquet of roses, buttercups and bluebells, and the audience grows fuzzy. Her cheeks look like roses too as she blushes.

At last, her father puts her hand in mine, and I am home. The minister starts to talk and a realization hits me. When I say I will obey Marinette, it will be one of the first times in my life where I will want to obey, cheerfully and willingly. Father, so cruel and controlling is no longer in my life, and I feel like a butterfly (don't worry, Dear Journal, not the akuma) bursting from its cocoon. At last, I'll be free to do want I want to do in life. Love my wife, start a family.

When I actually do say, "I do," I find tears running down my cheeks, and Marinette is crying softly too. But sadness is quickly replaced with joy, for the minister tells us, "you may kiss the bride."

The kiss feels like a Goldilocks kiss: Not to long, not to short, but just right. The crowd bursts into cheers and a huge joyful smile spreads across my face as I lead my now wife down the aisle.

We slide into the waiting limo, and we are both quiet for a moment, to catch our breath. "We did it, Adrien. We're married and I didn't trip once!" We burst into giggles and now with the privacy window firmly up and shut, I kiss Marinette freely.

"And now," she says, hitching up her dress a bit, "I can remove the deathtraps." I give a quizzical but mischievous smile. "Deathtraps?" "My shoes! I should not be allowed to wear anything with heels!" I help her put on some more comfortable shoes.

The reception is at a fancy hotel and my stomach growls immediately as we walk inside. "Do you think they'll have tuna?" I whisper to Marinette. "Not likely, fur ball. More like chicken."

Before we are announced, Marinette slips her arm through mine. I whisper comforting words to her as we walk inside the dining hall. Even as Ladybug, she never liked giving interviews and when we had to do one, she always kept it short.

Marinette is right about the food, but I realize that either one of us has eaten much today, so while our friends make speeches about us, we enjoy our meal.

When it comes time for the cake, its almost bittersweet, because soon we'll be not only leaving our families and friends behind, we'll also be saying goodbye to Paris. Most of the boxes are already packed up and ready to go the island, where I can't wait to set up housekeeping with Marinette and start my new life with her.

Once our food is settled, I lean back and watch my wife and my now father-in-law, Tom Dupain, have the first Dad/Daughter dance. It brings tears to my eyes watching them, as I know Marinette will always be his little girl.

Then a idea comes to mind that we could build onto our cabin and put in a spacious kitchen for Tom to delve into his recipes. He's always wanted to bake more then sweets and hopefully soon, he'll have that that opportunity. Oh, wait. Will Marinette be okay if we tell them our identities? I mean, they'll know something's up when we bring them through a portal onto a deserted island. Something to think about.

But now its time to dance, and I feel my joy rushing back as Marinette and I are reunited. Our song is a slow song, the background melody the pattering of raindrops.

We dance and eat late into the night, until we can barely keep our eyes open. Good thing our room is right upstairs for the night.

"Adrien! Adrien!" Go away, I want to say as I hide under my pillow. I haven't danced that hard in a long time and my body aches. "Mphr?" Is my response. "Adrien, its time for coffee." "No, its time for sleep." But then I open my eyes and slowly crawl out from beneath the pillow and give a mock gasp and cover my eyes. "My love, your hair is wild, I fear if I look at it a moment longer, I will be turned to stone." Marinette snorts. "You know, I always thought you should be a theater kid. As Cat, your so dramatic. Besides, you don't look perfect either," she says, a tad bit grumpily. I wiggle closer. "Is someone grumpy because we are deprived of coffee?" I lean forward and kiss her. "Kiss me again, Fur ball, and experience my wrath."

"I'm up!" A lot of teasing and bantering follows but finally we head out the door, dressed and looking presentable. Marinette and I get our drinks to go, which surprises me, because Marinette likes to take her time. "Come on, I want to show you were they have the best pancakes in Paris." This tickles my funny bone, because my father was legendary for making the worse pancakes ever.

Its a small street vendor, and my mouth waters looking at all those fluffy round cakes. The vendor wraps up two or three pancakes in paper and we head to the park to enjoy our breakfast. The park is still reveality empty, with just a few birds cooing and chirping in the trees.

Marinette nearly chokes on her pancake as I eye them suspiciously. "Admit it, Kitten," she says, grazing her fingers across my arm affectionately, "If you were Cat right now, your tail would be swishing." I blush and nod.

"They better stay away from breakfast," is all I say with dignity. A slight breeze springs up and I get a bit shy as I ask Marinette, "you want to look at the roses in the hedge?" she nods, and I wonder if she's feeling a little shy herself. In the early morning sunlight her ring catches the light perfectly.

We sit on a bench in the hedge breathing in and admiring the roses. "Wanna cuddle?" "You want to purr, don't you?" I nod, saying, "Claws Out," and I lay down across her lap. "What do you want scratched first?" "My ears." "Okay, just don't chomp on my fingers."

Almost as soon as her fingers find my itchy spot, my loud purr starts up, and she giggles. "Your such a dork," she says tenderly, bending down to plant a feathery kiss on my cheek. "But I love you." "I love you too, Princess." I roll over so I can look at her. "But do you want I love more?" "What?" she asks, drinking her coffee. "Yarn balls." "I should have seen that coming."

We stop by the bakery for the bit as Ladybug and Cat Noir, but we can't stay long for we need to get packing. Packing isn't the most fun job in the world, so we make a game and at the end of the day, we get take-out fried chicken and rice.

"Everything tastes better when your hunger," I say, using my chopsticks to skewer a piece of meat. "Yeah. Wasn't nice of my parents to make a recipe book full of their favorite recipes?" "I guess. But they must not trust me in the kitchen, because they gave it to you and not me." "When you learn not to burn water, maybe I'll let have a peek," she teases. "How do you burn water?" Then I give her my most charming smile. "Maybe you can teach me." "No. You know your place in the world." "Yep. To tell you as many puns as possible."

"Cat Noir…." Uh-oh….. "Would you like another cup of coffee, love?" "I'd accept, only I know you offered just to save your tail." "Can't it be because I love you?" I hear a groan.

I'll write more soon, Dear Journal.

If I live that long.

-Adrien Agreste