Chapter 17: We did it for the right reasons
Marinette's hands — clad in thermal Winter gloves — anxiously wrung together as she sat on the weathered wood of a bench, her eyes roving across the park in search of the person she was waiting for.
But just like the last ten times she'd checked, there was no sign of him. She glanced down at her watch again to check she hadn't somehow muddled up the time.
3:02pm. He was two minutes late.
However, she had been here for quite a long time. Marinette was notorious for never arriving early to anything ever, but pacing the floor of her bedroom had quickly become too nerve-wracking. So in the end, she'd decided to just give herself a headstart. Waiting in the park instead of her bedroom helped with her anxiety only slightly. But she'd take what she could get.
Sitting amongst the soft petite snowflakes had been pleasant, but they'd stopped falling a while back. The delicate layer of white sleet that now dusted the tarmac around her shoes was, unfortunately, far too thin to stick and was on course to melt within the hour.
She could only hope the snow returned before Spring came around. Her friend group had yet to experience the joys of snowball fights or sledding together, and the idea of missing out on the chance to be carefree kids before it was too late sounded appalling.
She pictured Adrien, cheeks tinged pink from the cold, whooping with delight as he sped down a snowy bank, bundled up in the blue cotton scarf she'd made him for his approaching birthday next month. The heartwarming image was enough to bring a smile to her face, and she knew she'd do anything to make it a reality.
She just needed the damn weather to cooperate with her.
Marinette glanced over at a blackbird perched on a tree branch. The little creature ruffled its feathers and warbled noisily, before taking off in a soaring arc towards the sky. She watched it glide away, almost in a trance.
Until the sound of quiet footsteps approaching her from behind broke her out of it.
She turned her head to watch Fu shuffle his way toward the bench and then sit down next to her, clad in the same fedora hat and trench coat she remembered him wearing all those months ago.
"Hello, Marinette," he said, in the same warm voice she also remembered from all those months ago.
"H-Hey..." she stammered, her brain fumbling for an appropriate term of address. 'Sir' felt too generic but 'Monsieur Fu' felt too formal, and one very impulsive part of her brain was screaming at her to simply refer to him as Guy Who Almost Got Hit By A Bus. In the end, she let her indecisiveness strangle her into silence. It was probably for the best.
Fu took it upon himself to break said silence. "It's lovely to see you again, but is there a specific reason why you wanted to meet me?"
"Y-Yes!" Marinette swallowed down the blockage in her throat, finding her voice. "I, um... Well, I figured you should have this back." Her hand dipped into her purse and pulled out the purple brooch. She offered it up to the man sitting next to her. "H-He's very nice... Nooroo, I mean. He deserved a holder so much better than Hawk— than Gabriel Agreste."
Fu accepted the miraculous from her and held it in his palm, thumb brushing over the delicate gossamer wings.
"What you've done for this city is highly commendable," he said quietly. "Any thanks I could give you will never be enough." He settled the brooch into his chest pocket with the same gentle fondness Marinette used to deposit Tikki into her bag when the kwami was still half-asleep.
The thought made her heart clench a little.
"Do you... need the other two miraculous back as well?" she asked, hands tightening around her purse. "Tikki and, um... and Plagg?"
Fu sighed and shook his head. "That won't be necessary. The threat is over and the kwamis have no more duties to fulfill. They've more than earned a little free reign." He chuckled. "Besides, even if I wanted to take them back, I don't think I could. Tikki would likely fight tooth and nail to stay with you. As for Plagg? Well. Paris might just go up in flames a second time."
After a brief pause, he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Sorry. Too soon."
Marinette released her grip on the purse and let out a breath, relaxing against the backrest of the bench.
From her peripheral vision, she saw Fu turn to look at her. "I assume you're having a very difficult time at the moment?" he said.
The sympathy in his voice made her bristle slightly, but she covered it up with a shrug. "I'm okay. Mostly." Her hands began wringing together again. "I'm honestly more worried about Adrien. He's... got it a lot worse than me."
"That's not what I asked."
"I'm okay," she reiterated. "Really, I am." She forced herself to look back at him. "I actually think he's the one you should be talking to."
Something dark and melancholy passed over the twinkle in his eyes, diminishing them to a dulled gleam. "I think I'm the last person he wants to see right now."
Marinette blinked. "Why? He doesn't blame you for anything that happened. And neither do I."
Fu hummed noncommittedly. "Maybe that's true. But it's the principle of it all. I essentially assigned him to a war against his own father."
The regret in his voice was hard to miss. And Marinette had to surmise that maybe this wasn't just about Adrien.
"It wasn't your fault," she said with conviction. And then wondered whether any amount of conviction meant anything when this man could literally see auras.
Which meant that whatever color was currently swirling around her was utterly conspicuous and exposed, no matter how assured she tried to make her voice sound. What was he seeing right now? Anger? Fear? Pity?
She hoped not.
"And..." she continued, "I still think you should talk to him."
"You're right," Fu agreed with a nod. "I owe him that much, at least. But..." He smiled at her, in a way that made her feel like he knew all of her deepest secrets. "It might make more sense if you talked to him first, Marinette."
She inhaled sharply. "How did you...?"
He brushed off her question with one of his own. "Is there a reason you keep putting it off?"
Marinette went to speak, then she felt her throat lock up like a mousetrap. So she closed her mouth again, swallowing down her attempt at the truth. She knew her walls of defense were still there, guarding her, surrounding her, ready to jump into action if she made one wrong move.
But this time, she tried gently pushing against them, as if to test their sturdiness. Just to see whether she was actually stronger than they were.
And maybe she was; when she found her voice again, the words escaped with ease. And Marinette was prepared for whatever might spill out along with them.
"Because for once, I want him to be able to depend on me," she snapped, "Not the other way around. And if I tell him I'm Ladybug, he might not..." She sighed in frustration, rubbing a hand across her itching nose. "He's already dealing with so much."
Fu hummed again. "I imagine finding out that the girl he loves just so happens to also be his partner in crime would bring him nothing but joy."
"But he'd be finding out that everything was a lie!" she argued, anger flaring. "I don't want to be like his fathe—..." She turned to stare at her lap, her fists clenched and her eyes simmering. "I don't want to be s-someone who lies to him."
"This particular lie was necessary."
She scoffed. "Not anymore, it's not. And the longer I leave it, the harder it gets."
"Then don't leave it any longer."
"I don't..." She chuckled at the irony. It really was never just about Adrien, was it? "I don't know if I'm ready."
She absentmindedly cast her gaze toward the same tree as before. A new bird was sitting on the branch — a dunnock this time.
"Ready to reveal your identity?" Fu probed.
She shrugged. "Ready for him to see both sides of me. He's always loved Marinette. He's never loved Ladybug." Her heart accumulated with sudden heaviness, diffusing a sharp pain through her chest. "What if he... doesn't like what he sees?"
"Marinette..." The bird flew away, so she turned her attention back to the man sitting beside her, only to find Fu staring at her with that strange, enigmatic look that she'd never been able to puzzle out. "You know his identity. You've seen both sides of him. Did you like what you saw?"
"Of course!" she said, the defensive spike in her chest rearing its head at the mere thought that she wouldn't. "I was always going to! And I only loved him more after I found out—"
She cut herself off after realizing the point he was making. The huff she let out was just as much humorous as it was fearful. "I need to tell him, don't I."
He smiled again. "Only if you think that's what is best."
Marinette closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Curse this stupid short man for being so ambiguous and never actually offering any helpful advice. She didn't KNOW what was best, goddammit!
She pulled her eyes back open. "But what if I—?"
The seat next to her was empty.
She looked up to see that Fu was already retreating toward the park's large gates, the flaps of his tailcoat fluttering out behind him.
゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜
Chat Noir was falling.
That much he was sure of. It was the only explanation as to why his hands were flailing around in front of him, why the wind was roaring through his ears, and why his stomach was flipping over and over itself.
Explosions of colors and shapes were bursting all around him: purple smoke, rusted debris, car doors, shattered glass. And someone was screaming, screaming, screaming—
He hit the ground.
And gasped awake.
The sight of his familiar bedroom made it clear very quickly that he had, in fact, not been falling. He wasn't even Chat Noir right now. Glancing down to find out what he was wearing, he deduced that he was actually... Ladybug?
No. He was Adrien, wearing a Ladybug-themed onesie.
Right. The impromptu sleepover he and Nino had decided on a few hours ago.
That would explain why he was lying on his bedroom floor, on top of a heap of blankets and pillows which had been taken from both his couch and his bed, in order to build a haphazardly thrown-together fort. The figure next to him was sat upright and hugging their knees, dressed in black and sporting a pair of cat-ears above their hood.
It wasn't until the thud of his frantic heartbeat faded from his ears that Adrien began to notice the faint buzz of background noise. He warily turned his head to look at the laptop resting on the floor near his feet. His friend seemed to be in the middle of watching Space Mutants vs Ghost Sharks. Which was weird, because he was pretty sure they'd been watching One Piece before he'd fallen asleep.
As he struggled to pull himself into a sitting position, Nino finally took notice and turned to look at him. "Oh hey, dude. Good nap?"
"The best," Adrien retorted, groggily rubbing the heel of his hand across his eyes. He pulled his arm away to look at his watch, only to find out it was 9:45pm. Great. His first sleepover ever (with someone who wasn't Chloé) and he'd passed out before the clock had even struck midnight. He'd failed at being a good friend and a good host. "You should've woken me back up."
"Yeah, well..." Nino hit the spacebar on the laptop, pausing the movie. "You looked like you needed it. Which is true, I guess. Considering we have school tomorrow."
"School," Adrien repeated, wrinkling his nose, "Tomorrow."
"Jeez, don't be too excited about it," Nino laughed, gently thumping him in the shoulder. "But in all seriousness, I get it. First time going back after so long... I mean, I'd be shitting myself if I were you."
Adrien shook his head. "I can't take you seriously when you're wearing a Chat Noir onesie."
"Excusez-moi!" Nino grabbed his fake tail and spun it like a propeller. "I happen to be rocking this look. I think I'm pulling it off better than the original, in fact."
"You wish." Adrien pulled his knees up to hug them, mirroring Nino's position. It suddenly occurred to him how the dream he'd been having thirty seconds ago was likely nowhere near as scary as what was happening tomorrow. "But, uh, you're right. I am... well, maybe not 'shitting myself'. But definitely nervous."
Nino nodded, the cat-ears flapping aimlessly above his hood. "We'll stay with you, y'know. Me and the girls. It's not like you're gonna be doing this alone."
Adrien smirked at the imagery of his friends following him around everywhere like a posse of bodyguards. Then his imagination expanded the scene and his smile fell. "They're all gonna stare, aren't they?"
Nino chuckled. "Not if they value their lives."
"Huh?"
"Chloé," he clarified. "I guarantee she'll rip apart anyone who so much as looks at you the wrong way."
Adrien frowned, a spark of apprehension igniting in his gut. "She promised me she wouldn't give anyone trouble."
"She doesn't!" Nino waved his hands in reassurance. Then immediately froze. "Except that one time last week..."
Adrien groaned and sank his face into his palms.
"No, you don't get it, man — it was totally justified. The stuff those guys were saying..."
Nino trailed off. And Adrien didn't ask him to continue. Come tomorrow, he was certain he'd overhear a never-ending stream of ludicrous assumptions and conjectures about himself. There was no need to start tonight.
Instead, he shifted the conversation. "Chloé's nice to you guys though, right?" he asked, pulling his head back up.
Nino made a face. "Well... yesterday, she called Marinette's pigtails 'proportional'."
Adrien nodded, fighting the urge to wince. "I see..."
"Oh, and also!" Nino's eyes widened as he confidently announced, "Last week, she told Alya that her Ladyblog looked 'elementary'."
Adrien squinted. "I... can't see how that could ever be interpreted as a compliment."
"Okay, well, I guess that part wasn't," Nino agreed, "But since then, she's been helping Alya redesign the website. And it's looking really good!" His elated expression turned sour again. "Which is great and all, except Chloé's been spending more time with my girlfriend than I have."
Adrien snorted at the thought of the two girls huddled over a laptop together, while Nino quietly simmered with jealousy in the background. "Bully turned homewrecker. Didn't see that one coming, not gonna lie."
"Don't laugh!" Nino shoved him, causing Adrien to topple backward onto the floor. "What if she genuinely leaves me for Chloé?!"
As payback, Adrien yanked at his arm, so that Nino fell down beside him. "What if she genuinely just wants her website to look awesome and knows Chloé is the best woman for the job?" he shot back.
Nino relented with a sigh, accepting his fate and settling down onto the makeshift bed of pillows. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Having the person best fit for a job is important." He poked his friend in the cheek. "You'd know all about that, Monsieur Savior-Of-Paris."
The conversation lulled into silence and the two boys stayed lying side by side, decked in the colors of the superheroes. Nino reached over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl next to him and shoved it into his mouth.
Meanwhile, Adrien stared up at his ceiling, at the cracks and divots in the cream-colored gypsum boards. All the while, Nino's words played on a loop inside his head.
Savior of Paris.
Savior.
Of Paris.
It made him sound so heroic. As if he'd actually done something worthy of praise.
As if he hadn't 'saved' the day in the most pathetic way imaginable.
"What was it all for?" he asked, mostly to the ceiling above him, "Me being a superhero, I mean."
Nino froze, having just shoved a second handful of kernels into his mouth. "Oh shit, we're talking about it?"
"Back then," Adrien said, "I thought I was so important. And what I did was so important. But... it turned out the villain had been... him the entire time." He avoided the blockade in his throat, but he couldn't avoid the ice-cold chill that rushed through his limbs. "So... I don't know. The whole thing just feels like a complete waste now. Nobody... gained anything from it at all."
"You know that's not true." Nino nudged his shoulder with his own. "You saved lives, dude. That was very important."
"Fine." Adrien threaded his fingers together on top of his stomach, and shivered. The woolly Ladybug onesie suddenly didn't feel warm enough. "I didn't gain anything at all then."
He heard the bowl briefly clatter sideways, spilling popcorn all over the blankets, before Nino managed to catch it. "But you told me you loved being Chat Noir."
"No, I mean... on that final day." Adrien swallowed, and for a second he swore he could taste ash. "When I was talking to him, and he was saying all those things to me..."
"Things?" Nino asked quietly.
"Nice things. Really nice things." Adrien brushed his thumb across the divots on his zipper, and willed himself to keep going. "Like how I was such a great kid, and that he didn't want to lose me. And that he was sorry."
"And... you didn't like that?"
"I hated it," Adrien answered truthfully, the fire in his chest flickering to life for the first time that night. "I hated that it took losing my mom and almost losing me for him to say those things to me. Why couldn't he just...?"
The ceiling began to blur and he sniffled fiercely. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find a way to finish that sentence.
"Look, man... You didn't choose to be that asshat's son," Nino said, voice still low. "That part was completely out of your control. But you know what was in your control?" He grabbed his friend's wrist and waved it around, causing the silver ring to reflect a glint of light from the laptop screen. "Choosing to be Chat Noir."
Adrien rolled his eyes, fond and not-so-fond memories alike soaring through his mind. "Not at first."
Nino frowned, puzzled. "What?"
"But, well..." He tightened his hand into a fist, ring still glinting. "Yeah, no, I guess I did."
The other boy snorted. "Bro, was it your choice or not?"
"Yes," said Adrien, more confidently. The fire in his chest began to solidify, morphing from a raging orange into a steadfast green. "And I think... if I had to do it all again... I would make the exact same decision."
A clatter rang out as Plagg bulldozed past a stack of books on the desk, knocking them in every direction and derailing the conversation entirely.
"I should hope so!" the kwami lamented, his little ears flattening indignantly. "For a second there, it sounded like you wished you'd never met me."
"Love you too, Plagg," Adrien called after him, as the cat zipped across the room and phased into his cheese cabinet.
"Damn. That guy's pretty fast," Nino noted in admiration. "Do you think he'd be willing to fetch us the giant packet of quavers I left in the kitchen?"
Adrien snickered. "Not unless you're willing to buy him a whole tray of parmigiano reggiano."
Nino nodded in contemplation. Then he slowly climbed out the pile of pillows with a defeated huff. "Old-school it is then."
Adrien pulled a face. "But I'm not hungry."
"Dude." Nino took hold of his hand and hoisted him to his feet. "Come on. No one raids the kitchen at night because they're hungry."
゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜
Marinette stood beside the open gates at the Agreste manor, her hands buried deep inside the pockets of her faux mink coat, in order to prevent herself from biting through the skin on her knuckles. Instead, she resorted to rocking back and forth on her heels as she anxiously waited for him to appear.
She'd been doing this for five days now, so she was getting pretty good at the whole 'not being late' thing. (Funny how Adrien always made her go against her natural code of conduct.) But there was something about walking to school with him that made her insides simmer with gasoline and her heart thud irregularly like an off-road car.
She wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the sense of responsibility she felt. Maybe it was the prospect of spending time with him outside of their friend group. Maybe she was still just a lovesick wreck, far too caught up in the throes of feelings for her own good.
Her head snapped up when she heard the heavy front door open and close, and then Adrien himself was trailing down the driveway towards her, with a shy smile on his face and a faded red parka coat thrown over his shoulders.
She reminded herself that constantly chasing the anxious thrill was worth it. He would always be worth it.
"Hey," he said in greeting when he reached her side. She looked at his smile. At Chat Noir's smile.
Man, that would never not make her head spin.
He was Chat Noir. He had a kwami, just like she did. It was weird to think that Plagg was likely hiding somewhere in his shirt, or in his bag. It was even weirder to think that the two kwamis were probably friends.
Now that Tikki no longer needed to stick by her side every second of every day just in case an akuma attack broke out, she'd noticed that the little red being often left her house at night. And always returned before she woke up.
It suddenly occurred to her that Plagg might be the one Tikki had been meeting up with. For what, Marinette could only guess. Maybe they liked to eat baked goods together, while they laughed about their holders' piss-poor mental healths.
She honestly wouldn't blame them.
"You okay?" Adrien asked, his kind eyes scrutinizing her. And Marinette realized that even though they'd started walking, she hadn't said anything for a solid thirty seconds.
"I'm great!" she choked out, shooting him finger guns with the wrong fingers. "Sorry, I was just thinking about... h-how hot air balloons never seem to..."
She stopped herself, upon noticing he was wearing his earbuds; the black wires just about visible above the fur trim of his pulled-down hood. She leaned closer, straining her ears for the tinny of whatever song he was playing. "Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, um... I'm not listening to anything." He held up the unplugged audio jack for her to see, before tucking it back into his pocket.
(And, well. She had to admit it made sense. Yesterday, a car had backfired near them on the way home from school, and Adrien had nearly jumped out of his skin.)
They fell back into an easy silence as they traipsed through the streets of Paris, passing by a myriad of merchants and store owners who were all setting up in preparation for the morning hustle. Although their destination was the school, the two of them had a tendency to meander — to take the occasional detour. Which they could do, since they were never in a rush. They always gave themselves plenty of time.
Their interlocked hands idly swung back and forth in the space between them. There wasn't even anything romantic about it; holding hands was just something they did now. And Marinette was happy to say it barely even made her heart sputter anymore. The feel of his hand in hers was like a language she could read fluently, filling her with a sense of safety and confidence.
She'd gotten used to the silence, too. Before everything, Adrien had never been one to preach brevity. Chat Noir and Adrien alike, they'd— he'd always been full of sparkling energy, ready to chip in with a snarky comment or a kind reassurance. He might not have been as chatty as her, but he'd never been quite like this: so reserved and distant. So unwilling to make the first move.
That wasn't to say his old self didn't still occasionally shine through. His vibrant personality often returned when Alya and Nino were around. But when it was just the two of them, he seemingly didn't feel the need to hide how he was really feeling. And Marinette loved and hated it at the same time.
Because it meant she was the only one wearing a mask now.
"So!" she said brightly, more than willing to do the talking for both of them, "Joint morning math class with Miss Mandeliev. Should be fun!"
She knew she was putting in way too much excitement, but her anxiety had to bleed out of her somehow.
She also knew moods could be contagious and sure enough, Adrien smiled at her antics. "Nothing more fun than surds," he grinned, reaching to rub at the back of his head.
Both Adrien and Chat do that, Marinette noted. God, she was an idiot for not realizing sooner. So many of their idiosyncrasies matched up perfectly. They truly were one and the same.
It once again dawned on her that because they were one and the same, this boy owned her whole heart. And she couldn't see that changing anytime soon.
She wasn't sure about Adrien though. Ever since their failed kiss, he hadn't brought up his feelings for her. Did he still like her back? Had he moved on after she rejected him? There was no way for her to tell. But since he hadn't said anything, she hadn't either. She wasn't about to repeat her past mistakes.
"How is... everything going with you?" she asked, attempting to break the ice again. Because although the silence between them felt natural and relaxing, that didn't mean Marinette herself found silence easy to sustain.
Adrien gave her a strange look, before glancing down at the ground. She tried her best to read his emotions. But she'd relied on the movement of his cat-ears as an indicator for so long, working without that factor was hard.
"Alya says..." He cleared his throat. "Alya says you've been having some really bad days lately."
"Did she now?" Marinette muttered, reminding herself to never open up to her blabbermouth of a best friend ever again.
When he looked back up at her, she could identify the emotion in his eyes as concern. "Is that true?"
"I guess," she said with a shrug, "But that doesn't matter because—"
"It matters to me," he insisted. "Every part of you matters to me, Marinette. All the good and the bad."
Goddammit. She loved him, she hated him — he gave far too much, and nowhere near enough.
"What about your good and bad?" She tugged on his hand and pulled them both down an adjacent street, which was less bustling than the one they were currently on. "That's what matters to me. Stop trying to change the subject."
He said nothing and the silence resumed. And Marinette wanted to kick herself for once again taking things too far.
"I don't know," he finally answered, so quietly she barely heard.
"Oh," Marinette said, just as soundlessly. "Well, that's okay. I don't always know I how feel, either."
"I-I think—... It's just—... When..." Adrien briefly squeezed his eyes shut, and then tried again. "When something drastic happens, things never really go back to the way they were. It doesn't matter if you try for justice, peace, revenge, forgiveness, or... hell, even a Wish. It changes nothing. You can't ever go back."
Marinette blinked in surprise. This was the most she'd gotten out of him in weeks.
Don't fuck this up, Marinette. Focus.
"Which one are you trying for?" she asked carefully.
His eyebrows pulled together into a pensive frown. "I don't know yet. I haven't decided. I'm just... carrying on. It's all I really know how to do."
She felt her heart stutter like a violin in dire need of tuning. "I'm glad you're carrying on."
And she didn't know what else she could say. In some ways, she knew exactly how Adrien felt. Being unsure was a terrible feeling, especially when all she wanted to do was help him. And for someone who had a reputation for fixing things (both in and out of the suit), Marinette simply didn't know how to fix this. How to fix them.
It was as if his world spun too slow and her world spun too fast, and she just couldn't figure out the correct quantum physics necessary to level out their orbits. What was the point of needing each other so much if all they ever did was spin each other's worlds in the complete wrong direction?
Almost as if fate was proving her point, they immediately came to a stop next to a busy road. The two of them worked together to look left and right in order to check when it was clear to cross. Except Marinette accidentally looked toward the wrong left and nearly killed them both. A few swerves, sprints and angry car horns later, they just about reached the other side unscathed.
"Holy shit!" she gasped, heartbeat slamming against her ribs in the same way it used to whenever she'd dodged a deadly akuma attack. (And maybe she missed the adrenaline more than she'd realized.) "I would've needed binoculars to see that fucker hurtling towards us. The guy had a whole eternity to press the breaks!"
"Well, looking in the right direction might've helped," Adrien deadpanned, earning himself a playful shove to the shoulder before they continued their journey.
Marinette blew hair out of her face. "I honestly don't know how I'm still alive."
Adrien took hold of her (now very sweaty) hand in his. "Maybe you're just blessed with incredible luck."
"And so are you," she chuckled, pointing to the little trinket sticking out of his trouser pocket. "The lucky charm seems to be working, huh?"
He pulled out the charm and held it in his palm. She didn't miss the way his expression lit up with a soft fondness.
"It's... gotten me through a lot, actually," he said, fingers curling around the bead with the four-leafed clover. "I know I haven't always been very lucky, but..." He looked at her, eyes so warm she could almost sink into them. "I'm lucky to have a friend like you who gifts me things like this."
Marinette felt the sudden need to return the compliment. "And I have my golden goose!" she declared, yanking her own lucky charm out of her pocket so fast, it almost went flying through the air.
Adrien hummed. "I guess yours has a completely different meaning."
She nodded. "It's a reference to the monopoly of capitalism, right?"
"Oh." Adrien blinked. "Um. I guess it is? But there's actually more to it than that."
"There is?" she asked, attention piqued. "Well, in that case, Google wasn't very helpful." She chose not to mention that she hadn't looked beyond the information in the first little box she'd found.
"Have you heard of the idiom, 'Don't kill the goose that lays the golden egg'?" Adrien asked. When she shook her head, he continued, "Okay, well, it basically means you shouldn't destroy livelihood that is profitable to you, just because of greed."
Marinette raised her eyebrows. "Alright, Monsieur I-Have-More-Money-Than-I-Know-What-To-Do-With."
Adrien let out a choked laugh. "Nino is a bad influence on you. Besides, profit doesn't always mean financial. It can also mean something... precious." His eyes met hers again, and Marinette tried to pretend like her heart hadn't just erupted in a flurry of emotion. "It was my reminder. For... For my friendship with you. And about I how shouldn't... ruin it."
"Oh!" Marinette squeaked, praying her face didn't look as red-hot as it felt. "I'm the profitable livelihood?"
"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds terrible."
"No, it doesn't!" She threw her arms up, jerking to a sharp stop and barricading Adrien from walking any further as well. "It sounds wonderful!" She grabbed his shoulders and turned them both towards each other. "I'm— I'm just really flattered, y'know? That I mean— That I meant so much to you."
Adrien's eyes softened. And Marinette hated herself for ever thinking the golden goose had been ridiculous.
"Not like it mattered in the end," he said, shrugging his shoulders under her palms. "I ruined everything anyway."
She resisted the urge to simultaneously burst out laughing and crying, at the reality that the only one ruining everything was her. Instead, she shook her head, hoping he didn't notice her thudding heartbeat through the pulses on her wrists.
"Why didn't you tell me what the lucky charm meant?" she asked gently.
He offered her a sad smile. "Because I knew you wouldn't catch on."
She pressed her lips into a thin line, because otherwise, she genuinely was going to start crying. It bothered her how bittersweet his statement really was. His gift had come from a place of fondness and love, yet he'd never intended for her to find out its true meaning.
He'd never intended for her to know how he felt. Never wanted to risk losing her.
Because he was terrified of losing people.
What the hell was she doing?
Tikki. Alya. Fu. All of them were right. She needed to tell him the truth. Enough waiting. She had no excuses left anymore.
Except maybe just one, her brain immediately pointed out.
One that would make the wait completely worth it.
"Y'know," she said, releasing his shoulders in favor of his hand, and pulling him onward, "The masquerade ball is next weekend."
Adrien's lips twitched in amusement. "I remember. Nino actually wanted me to ask you to that." The amusement dropped away. "I'm sorry I never did."
She briskly shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Because now, I'm asking you. It's not too late. We haven't missed our chance or anything. Would you like to go with me?"
He smirked again, as if she'd said some kind of inside joke. "As friends?"
The pinprick of pain in her heart was faint, but still noticeable. "If that's what you'd prefer."
His grip on her hand tightened. "I don't mean it like... I'm not..." He sighed. "I don't think I'm ready for any kind of—"
"Adrien, it's okay," she said, because deep down, she'd always known that to be the real reason. And the tingling warmth that flooded through her skin almost made her want to throw off her coat, frosty air be damned. "You don't need to explain anything to me. I get it. We can just be friends."
Adrien huffed out a humorless laugh. "'Just'," he parroted, like the word was a distasteful insult. "There's no just about it. My friends mean everything to me. There isn't a single thing I wouldn't do for them. For you. Or for Lady—..."
The hurt that flashed across his eyes made her stomach contort. And it felt weirdly manipulative to prompt him but she couldn't help herself, so she asked, "For... who?"
"You don't know her, but she was my friend," he said, pronouncing each word as if it were precious and fragile. "She hasn't... reached out in a while though. And I miss her every day."
Marinette wondered if that speeding car would be willing to come back and actually mow her down this time.
"But it's not all bad!" he quickly continued, before her heart could wilt any further, "Like I said, I've still got plenty of other amazing friends at my side. Nino, Chloé, Alya..." He shook their interlocked hands for emphasis. "You."
This time, she didn't even attempt to hide her blush. "As friends it is then," she whispered.
"I'll, um... I'll have to meet you at the ball though," he said, chuckling awkwardly. "I already have plans to catch a ride with Chloé and Sabrina."
"Oh?" Marinette cocked her head, a grin forcing its way across her frigid cheeks. "You sure? Sounds like you're gonna be in a bit of a third wheel situation."
"Chloé insisted," he explained with a shrug. "And I... kinda got the impression she really needed me to be the third wheel. Besides..." She watched him visibly swallow. "Pierre— I mean, um... Chloé's chauffeur— h-he never drives fast, so I trust him, y'know?"
"Hey." She reached over with her free hand and squeezed his arm. (Not like she could adequately find it through the thick material of his coat, but the gesture was understood.) "I get it, okay? I'll be more than happy to meet you there."
It was his turn to blush. And Marinette was bursting at the seams over the discovery that 'one day' was still a liable option. One day, they might be even more than friends.
"You're an amazing friend, too, Adrien," she told him, squeezing his arm tighter, "And I'm sorry this friend of yours left. But I'm sure she'll... reach out soon."
"Yeah," he said, and she couldn't quite decipher what kind of fire was burning in his green eyes. "I'm sure she will."
