Marinette crossed her arms, determination written all over her face. "Gurvi, just stay here tonight."

Gurvinder shook his head, stepping back. "No, Marinette, I can't. It's already too much. You've given me a roof, a job, and now you want to let me stay in your room? That's—"

Marinette cut him off, her voice firm yet gentle. "It's not about what I've given you, Gurvi. It's about what you need."

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

She exhaled, softer this time. "You haven't slept properly in weeks. You're running on nothing, and now this storm is making it worse." She hesitated, then added, "You're trembling."

Gurvinder clenched his fists, his breathing uneven. She was right, and he knew it.

But… sleeping in her room? Under the same roof as her parents? He already felt like a burden.

"I'll be fine," he mumbled, looking away.

Marinette stepped forward. "No, you won't."

He blinked at her.

She sighed. "You always do this. You keep everything inside until you collapse—literally. And I'm not letting that happen again."

His body stiffened at the reminder of how he had fallen down the stairs just yesterday.

Marinette placed a hand on her hip. "Listen, you can either stay here and rest, or you can go back to your room, lie awake all night, and walk into work tomorrow looking like you just fought a war."

Gurvinder let out a dry chuckle. "You don't pull your punches, do you?"

She smirked. "Nope."

For a moment, they just stood there, the storm outside roaring in the background.

Then, with a heavy sigh, Gurvinder ran a hand through his rain-dampened hair. "Fine. But I'll sleep on the floor."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "No, you won't."

"I—"

She cut him off again. "I have an extra blanket. You take the bed, I'll take the chaise lounge."

He frowned. "That's not fair."

"Neither is you almost dying from exhaustion, again," she shot back.

Gurvinder let out a breath, defeated. "...You're impossible."

Marinette smiled. "I know."

He finally gave in, stepping inside, and as she closed the door behind him, she saw the smallest hint of relief in his tired eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the first step to breaking down those walls.

Gurvinder took a step back, shaking his head. His mind was racing.

"No, Marinette. I can't stay here. What will people think? What will your parents think?" His voice was firm, but there was a hesitation in his eyes.

Marinette's brows furrowed. "Who cares what people think? It's just for tonight, and it's because of the storm."

Gurvinder let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. "You don't get it. I'm a guy. You're a girl. We live under the same roof, and if someone finds out—" He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. "This could ruin your reputation, Marinette."

She folded her arms, her expression unreadable. "And what about you?"

He blinked. "What?"

Marinette stepped closer. "You're the one who's afraid of the storm. You're the one who hasn't slept properly in weeks. You're the one who just collapsed yesterday. And yet, here you are, worrying about my reputation instead of your own well-being."

Gurvinder clenched his jaw. "That's different."

"No, it's not," Marinette countered. "You always put yourself last, Gurvi. And I'm done watching you suffer in silence."

His fists clenched. He hated this. Hated how easily she saw through him. Hated how much she cared.

Marinette sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Look, if it really bothers you, I'll tell my parents. I'll explain the situation, and if they say no, then fine—you can go back to your room. But if they don't mind, then you stay."

Gurvinder looked at her, conflicted. His heart pounded against his ribs.

Marinette held his gaze, unwavering. "Deal?"

He hesitated. Then, finally, he sighed. "Fine. Deal."

Marinette gave a small nod. "Good. Now wait here."

As she turned to go talk to her parents, Gurvinder stayed behind, staring at the floor.

What the hell was he getting himself into?

Marinette took a deep breath before knocking on her parents' bedroom door.

"Mom? Dad?" she called softly.

There was a rustling sound, and soon, Sabine's gentle voice responded, "Come in, sweetheart."

Marinette pushed the door open slightly, peeking inside. Both her parents were still awake, Sabine sitting up with a book in her lap while Tom was adjusting his pillow.

Sabine immediately noticed Marinette's hesitant expression. "Is something wrong, dear?"

Marinette stepped inside, rubbing her arm. "Um… it's about Gurvinder."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Did something happen?"

She exhaled slowly. "It's… the storm. He's not good with them. He—" She paused, choosing her words carefully. "He has bad memories attached to storms. And right now, he's alone in his room, probably unable to sleep."

Her parents exchanged a glance before looking back at her.

"I was wondering," Marinette continued, "if it's okay for him to stay in my room tonight. Not in a weird way! Just—just so he doesn't have to be alone right now."

Tom narrowed his eyes slightly. "Stay in your room?"

Marinette quickly added, "I'll sleep on the floor if needed! I just… I don't want him to be alone when he's scared."

There was a silence. Sabine looked at her husband, and then back at Marinette.

Finally, Sabine spoke, her voice gentle. "Marinette, that's very kind of you. But are you sure Gurvinder would be comfortable with that?"

Marinette bit her lip. "Honestly? No. He's already freaking out about what people might think. But… I don't think he should be alone either."

Tom sighed, running a hand over his face. "That boy is too stubborn for his own good."

Sabine nodded in agreement. Then, after a moment, she smiled softly. "Alright. If Gurvinder agrees, then we won't stop him."

Marinette's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Tom sighed. "We trust you, sweetheart. But make sure he's comfortable with it. And if he prefers to stay in his own room, don't push him."

"I won't," Marinette promised. "Thank you."

She quickly stepped out, shutting the door behind her.

Now, she just had to convince Gurvinder.

Marinette shut the door behind her with a sigh, watching as Gurvinder immediately jumped up from the couch. His expression was a mix of stubbornness and awkward gratitude.

"I knew your parents would say no. I'm going to my room, thank you very much," he said quickly, adjusting his turban as he turned toward the door.

Marinette crossed her arms, blocking his way. "They didn't say no."

Gurvinder stopped mid-step, blinking. "…What?"

"They said it's up to you," she clarified, tilting her head. "If you're comfortable, you can stay."

Gurvinder hesitated, clearly caught off guard. His grip on his sleeves tightened, and he looked away. "That's… not a good idea."

"Why not?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Because I'm not weak, Marinette. I don't need anyone babysitting me. I've dealt with this for years."

Marinette softened. "That doesn't mean you have to deal with it alone."

He swallowed, shifting his weight. "People will talk."

She rolled her eyes. "Gurvi, you live in our house. You work with my parents. You literally call me 'Maricon' all the time like an annoying little brother. No one's going to think anything weird."

Gurvinder huffed, looking at her with narrowed eyes. "That's what you think. But a guy and a girl in the same room overnight? That's—"

"—literally you sitting on a couch and me sleeping in my bed?" Marinette cut in, raising an eyebrow. "What, you think I'm gonna jump on you in your sleep?"

Gurvinder let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "I'd be more scared of you sleep-talking all night."

Marinette smirked. "So you admit you don't actually have a problem staying here?"

Gurvinder groaned, rubbing his face. "Ugh. You're impossible."

She grinned. "And you're stubborn."

They stood there for a moment, the sound of the storm raging outside filling the silence. Gurvinder glanced at the window, his fingers twitching slightly.

Marinette noticed.

She took a step closer, lowering her voice. "Gurvi… you don't have to prove anything to anyone. Just stay. If it makes you feel even a little better, then why not?"

Gurvinder clenched his jaw, still looking at the storm. After what felt like forever, he finally exhaled, shoulders dropping.

"…Fine. But I'm taking the couch."

Marinette beamed. "Deal."

Marinette sat up in bed, watching him closely. Every time the sky flashed with lightning, Gurvinder flinched, his body tensing. Even in his sleep, his fingers twitched as if bracing for something.

She had already noticed he wasn't comfortable on the couch. At some point in the night, he had shifted to the floor, using his arm as a pillow, his turban still neatly tied. But even on the floor, he looked restless. His breathing was uneven, and every time thunder rumbled through the sky, his entire body jolted slightly.

He was scared.

Her chest tightened at the sight. He had tried so hard to act like he was fine, to argue about staying, to pretend like the storm wasn't affecting him. But now, with his guard down, it was obvious—he was reliving something.

Marinette hesitated for a moment before getting up. She grabbed an extra blanket and slowly walked over to where he lay. Gently, she draped the blanket over him, careful not to wake him.

For a second, she just stood there, watching him.

"…You don't have to pretend all the time, you know," she whispered, even though he couldn't hear her.

She sighed, kneeling down beside him for a moment. His face was calmer now, but his hands were still clenched into fists.

Without thinking, she reached out and gently covered one of his hands with her own.

His fingers twitched, but after a moment, they slowly relaxed. His breathing steadied just a little.

Marinette sat there a moment longer before quietly pulling away and heading back to bed.

As she lay down, she listened to the storm outside. It still raged on, but somehow, it didn't seem as harsh anymore.

And as she closed her eyes, she found herself hoping—just maybe—that Gurvinder felt the same.

The peaceful morning was shattered as Marinette's bedroom door burst open with a loud BANG!

"MARINETTE! MY LITTLE CUPCAKE, I'M H—"

Gina Dupain's voice froze mid-sentence.

Her eyes widened in absolute horror as she took in the sight before her—a young man, an immigrant no less, sleeping on the floor of her granddaughter's room.

Gurvinder, still groggy from sleep, blinked at the sudden intrusion, disoriented. His turban was slightly loose from the restless night, and he barely had time to react before Gina let out a gasp.

"MARINETTE?! WHO IS THIS BOY?!" she demanded, her voice sharp and filled with disbelief.

Marinette shot up from her bed, eyes still heavy with sleep but widening in panic as she saw her grandmother standing in the doorway, her face a mix of shock and suspicion.

"G-grandmère!" Marinette stammered, scrambling out of bed. "It's not what you think! I—"

Gurvinder quickly sat up, his hands instinctively going up as if to prove his innocence. "I—I can explain—"

But Gina wasn't listening.

"An immigrant boy sleeping in your room?!" Gina's voice rose, her sharp gaze snapping between Marinette and Gurvinder. "What in the world is going on here?! Does your mother know about this?!"

Marinette swallowed hard, trying to calm the situation before it spiraled. "Grandmère, please, just let me explain!"

But Gurvinder, sensing the tension, quickly stood up. His posture was stiff, tense—he had faced many looks like Gina's before, and he knew exactly what was going through her mind.

"I should leave," he muttered under his breath, quickly adjusting his turban with practiced hands. "I apologize for causing any misunderstanding."

He turned to walk out, but Marinette grabbed his wrist before he could. "No, wait!" she insisted.

Gina narrowed her eyes at the interaction.

"Marinette," she said firmly, arms crossed, "I want to know right now what is going on between you two."

Marinette took a deep breath, her heart pounding. She had to choose her words carefully.

Gina stormed down the stairs, her expression hard as stone. Her footsteps echoed sharply through the bakery as she walked straight to Tom and Sabine, who were preparing for the morning rush.

"Gina!" Sabine exclaimed in surprise, looking up from the counter. "You're here early—"

"What is going on in this house?!" Gina cut her off, her voice filled with outrage.

Marinette and Gurvinder followed close behind, Marinette visibly tense while Gurvinder kept his gaze low, his fists clenched at his sides.

Tom frowned, wiping his hands on his apron. "Gina, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about him!" Gina pointed straight at Gurvinder. "You let an immigrant boy stay under your roof? And now I find him in Marinette's room?! Sleeping there?! Have you lost your minds?!"

Sabine's face shifted from confusion to a deep frown. "Gina, lower your voice. You don't understand—"

"No!" Gina snapped. "What I understand is that you've picked up some stray off the streets and let him live here as if he's family! Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?! Who knows where he's from, what he's hiding? And now he's in your daughter's room—"

"Grandmère, stop it!" Marinette finally yelled, stepping between Gina and Gurvinder. "You're being unfair!"

"Unfair?!" Gina turned on her, incredulous. "Marinette, do you even realize what people will say? What if he tries something?!"

That was the last straw.

"Enough!" Tom's voice boomed across the bakery, making everyone freeze. He took a firm step forward, his protective presence filling the room. "Gina, I will not tolerate you talking about Gurvinder like that in this house."

"But Tom—"

"No!" His voice was sharp. "Gurvinder is not some stray we picked up. He is a hard-working, kind, and honorable young man. He has done nothing but help us, and earn his place here. And I will not have you disrespecting him under my roof."

Sabine stepped beside him, her voice softer but just as firm. "We took him in because he needed help, just like we would help anyone in need. That is who we are, Gina. We don't turn our backs on people just because they are different."

Gina looked between them, her expression still hard, but now uncertain.

Marinette turned to her grandmother, her voice quieter but full of emotion. "Gurvinder has never done anything to hurt me or our family. He's been through more than you can even imagine, Grandmère. And all he has ever done is work himself to exhaustion just to prove he belongs."

Gina glanced at Gurvinder, who still stood stiffly, his face unreadable. But his silence spoke volumes.

The room was thick with tension.

Would Gina listen?

Gina's face remained cold, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She scoffed, shaking her head.

"You can say whatever you want, but I don't trust him," she said bitterly, her eyes narrowing at Gurvinder. "You let him into your home, your bakery, even near your daughter—like he's one of us. But he's not! He's an outsider, Tom! You can't just bring someone like him into our family and expect me to be okay with it!"

Silence fell over the room.

Gurvinder, who had been standing quietly all this time, finally lifted his head. His dark eyes, always full of quiet warmth, now looked distant—empty. His shoulders were tense, but he didn't argue, didn't try to defend himself. He had heard words like these before. Too many times.

Tom clenched his jaw, anger flickering in his eyes. "Gina, that's enough."

"No, Tom, it's not enough!" she snapped. "I won't stand by while you destroy this family's reputation for some—some boy who doesn't even belong here!"

"He belongs here more than you do right now," Marinette shot back, her voice trembling with anger. "You're the one disrespecting our family's values. You're the one acting hateful."

Gina looked at her, stunned. "Marinette, you don't understand—"

"No! You don't understand!" Marinette's hands balled into fists at her sides. "Do you know how hard he works? How much he has given to this family without expecting anything back? He breaks his back every day for this bakery, for us, and you don't even have the decency to look at him like he's human!"

Sabine stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. "Gina, we have always taught Marinette to be kind, to judge people by their hearts, not where they come from. Maybe it's time you remember that lesson."

Gina's face twisted with frustration. "You're all blind. One day, you'll regret this."

With that, she turned sharply and stormed out of the bakery, slamming the door behind her.

A heavy silence remained.

Gurvinder let out a slow breath, his head still low. He turned to Tom and Sabine and bowed slightly. "I'm sorry for causing trouble." His voice was quiet, distant.

Tom's expression softened. "You don't have to apologize, son."

Marinette took a step closer to Gurvinder, her heart aching. "Are you okay?"

He gave her a small, tired smile. "I've heard worse." But there was something broken in his voice, something that made Marinette's chest tighten.

She wanted to say something, anything to make it better. But for the first time, she didn't know how.

Marinette sat on her bed, gripping her phone tightly, her fingers shaking as she typed.

Mari: Alya, I need to talk to you. It's about Gurvinder.

A few seconds later, Alya's reply popped up.

Alya: What happened? Is he okay?

Marinette sighed, rubbing her forehead. No, he's not, she wanted to say. Instead, she typed:

Mari: My grandmother… she said horrible things to him. She called him an outsider, said he didn't belong here. She stormed out, but… Gurvi just stood there, listening to all of it. He didn't even defend himself, Alya. Like he's used to it.

Alya's reply came almost instantly.

Alya: That's messed up. I knew some people were jerks, but your own grandmother??

Mari: I know. I didn't expect it either. I thought she'd be happy we were helping someone. But she acted like we were doing something wrong, like Gurvi's presence here is a threat or something.

There was a pause before Alya responded again.

Alya: And how is he?

Marinette hesitated before answering.

Mari: He smiled. Said he's heard worse. But… he looked so tired, Alya. So… empty.

Alya's three dots appeared and disappeared a few times before she finally sent her message.

Alya: Mari… I don't think you realize how much you care about him.

Marinette's fingers hovered over the keyboard. She felt her heart thump hard against her chest.

Mari: Of course I care. He's my friend.

Alya: Are you sure it's just that?

Marinette stared at the message for a long time. The words blurred in her vision as she remembered Gurvinder's tired smile, his quiet voice, the way he flinched at the storm, the way he carried so much weight—both physically and emotionally—without ever asking for help.

Her fingers trembled as she typed her next message.

Mari: I… I don't know anymore.

As soon as marinette stepped into the school hallway, she could feel the eyes on her. Whispers rippled through the crowd, some students giggling, others exchanging glances and smirks. She frowned, glancing to her side—Gurvinder was walking just a few steps ahead of her, completely unaware of the attention or simply ignoring it like he always did.

Marinette, on the other hand, wasn't used to this. The hushed voices, the side glances, the not-so-subtle smirks—it made her stomach twist in discomfort. What was going on?

Spotting Alya by the lockers, she quickened her pace and grabbed her friend's arm. "Alya, why is everyone staring at us?" she whispered, leaning in. "Did something happen?"

Alya turned to her, lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Ohhh, girl. I might have accidentally told everyone that you and Gurvi spent the night together in your room."

Marinette's face went pale, then burned bright red. "YOU WHAT?!"

Alya burst into laughter. "Relax! I didn't say it like that! I just… let it slip that you two were in the same room during the storm, and, well, people ran with it."

Marinette's heart pounded in her chest. She glanced toward Gurvinder—he was still walking ahead, completely oblivious to the stares, or maybe just used to being watched for other reasons.

"But—! That's not—! UGH, Alya!" Marinette groaned, face buried in her hands. "Now everyone thinks—"

"Oh, they totally think," Alya teased, nudging her. "Some are convinced you two are secretly dating. Others are making up wild stories about what happened. Chloe's probably foaming at the mouth somewhere."

Marinette groaned again. "This is a disaster."

Alya just winked. "Or, y'know, the start of something fun."

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual chatter of students, trays clattering, and the occasional burst of laughter. In one corner, a few students had a video playing on a phone—an informational clip discussing the rising number of immigrants in Paris. The voice from the video spoke about statistics, policies, and the challenges faced by both immigrants and locals.

Chloe, who had been passing by, stopped when she caught a glimpse of the video. Her eyes flickered toward Gurvinder, who was sitting with his tray, eating quietly as he always did. A cruel smirk curled on her lips.

"Oh wow," Chloe scoffed loudly, crossing her arms. "Speaking of immigrants, looks like we have a live example right here."

The table fell silent. Conversations around them slowed as heads turned toward her.

Gurvinder didn't react at first. His grip on his fork didn't tighten, his shoulders didn't tense—he just continued to eat, his posture calm. But inside, a familiar weight pressed against his ribs, that same suffocating feeling that he had carried for years.

He had learned long ago how to let people talk. If he reacted to every insult, every sneer, every comment whispered behind his back, he'd have exhausted himself by now. So, as always, he swallowed it down like a bitter pill.

Chloe, emboldened by his silence, sneered and took a step closer. "I bet your parents just dumped you on the streets like a garbage bag, huh?" she said, her voice dripping with mockery. "No wonder you're clinging to the Dupain-Chengs like a lost puppy. Do they feed you out of pity or what?"

His stomach twisted.

His parents.

The ones he had loved. The ones he barely remembered. The ones who left a hollow ache inside him that never truly went away.

He closed his eyes briefly but said nothing.

Still, Chloe scoffed. "Oh? No response? What, do you not even speak French properly?" She laughed, flipping her hair. "Or maybe you're just used to being treated like trash?"

The air was thick with tension. Marinette felt her heartbeat in her throat, her fists clenching under the table. Alya was already half out of her seat. Even some of the other students looked uncomfortable.

But Gurvinder… he remained still. His hands rested on the table, his food untouched now. His eyes were downcast, yet there was a quiet storm beneath them.

He wasn't ignoring her.

He was enduring her.

And that made it hurt even more.

He thought of all the times he had been called names. A nobody. A parasite. A thief. A burden.

He had endured.

He had always endured.

The cafeteria had never been so quiet.

Gurvinder, who had been enduring Chloe's insults in silence, finally stood. His movements were slow, deliberate—picking up his tray, stepping away from the table. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were dark, heavy with something unspoken. He didn't even spare Chloe a glance as he walked toward the exit, the weight of her words pressing against his back like a phantom hand shoving him forward.

Chloe smirked, thinking she had won. But she wasn't done yet.

"You know what's worse?" she called after him, her voice sharp and dripping with venom. "People like you are the reason Paris is rotting. And the Dupain-Chengs? They're traitors for taking in trash like you."

Gurvinder's steps faltered for a fraction of a second.

It was barely noticeable, but Marinette caught it.

His hands clenched tighter around the tray.

His knuckles turned white.

But he kept walking.

He could take it. He always did.

And then Chloe said it.

"And Marinette?" Chloe scoffed. "She's just a pathetic whore for sleeping with you."

The entire cafeteria froze.

Something inside Gurvinder snapped.

There was the sound of something crashing.

His tray hit the floor, the clatter echoing through the room.

His mind went blank.

No—blank wasn't the right word.

It went red.

How dare she?

How dare she talk about Marinette like that?

She could say anything about him. Call him a stray, an orphan, a leech. He had heard it all before. He had lived through it all before. He had built walls so thick around himself that even her words barely scratched the surface.

But Marinette?

The one person who had ever truly seen him? The person who had given him kindness without asking for anything in return? The girl who had fed him, scolded him, defended him, smiled at him like he was worth something?

Marinette, who had sat beside him when he was sick? Who had cried for him when he was hurting? Who had seen his scars—both the ones on his body and the ones he didn't speak of—and never once recoiled?

Marinette, who was looking at him now, her blue eyes wide with shock, not because of what Chloe had said about her, but because she had seen the moment he broke.

She had seen the fury in his eyes.

And she had seen the hurt.

Gurvinder turned around.

Chloe's smirk faltered.

Oh.

She had finally gone too far.

The distance between them closed in seconds. His arm moved, his hand curling into a solid fist as it swung forward.

The punch was about to connect—so close that Chloe could feel the wind against her skin.

And then… it stopped.

His knuckles hovered just a breath away from her face, his entire body trembling with restraint. His dark eyes bore into hers, not with anger, but with something colder.

Disgust.

He stayed like that, his fist inches away, his entire body tense, before slowly—painfully slowly—lowering his hand.

He had never hit a girl before.

And he wouldn't start with someone like her.

He turned his head slightly, his voice low, sharp like a knife's edge.

"You can say whatever the hell you want about me," he said, his voice eerily calm, but laced with something deadly beneath it. "I don't care."

His dark eyes locked onto hers.

"But don't you ever, ever talk about her like that again."

Chloe swallowed hard.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the cafeteria.

Marinette rushed after him, her footsteps quick and desperate as she pushed through the cafeteria doors.

"Gurvi!" she called, but he didn't stop.

He was walking fast, his breaths uneven, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His shoulders were stiff, every muscle in his body tense like he was barely holding himself together.

She pushed herself harder, running in front of him, blocking his path.

"Look at me," she said, her voice softer now, but firm.

He didn't. His head was turned away, his jaw locked, his chest rising and falling like he was swallowing everything down.

Marinette took a step closer.

She could see it—the way his lips trembled slightly, the way his hands clenched and unclenched, the way his eyes, even though they refused to meet hers, were burning with something raw.

"Gurvi…" she whispered.

A tear slipped down his cheek.

He quickly wiped it away with his sleeve, inhaling sharply like he could erase the moment, like if he just ignored it, it would go away.

Marinette felt her chest tighten.

"You don't have to hide it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not from me."

For a second, just a second, his shoulders shook. But then he took a deep breath, straightened up, and forced out a weak chuckle.

"I—I'm fine, Maricon," he said, forcing that usual witty smile. "C'mon, you know me. I'm not that soft."

But Marinette could see through it. She always could.

And this time, she wasn't going to let him brush it off.

She stepped forward and, without hesitation, wrapped her arms around him.

Marinette wrapped her arms around him tightly, feeling the way his body stiffened at the sudden contact. He was startled—his hands slightly raised as if unsure where to place them, his breath caught in his throat.

For a moment, he just stood there, frozen.

She was hugging him. Comforting him. After everything.

But how could she? How could she still care about him after what Chloe had said? After the filth she had thrown at her?

His mind spiraled, looping back to the moment Chloe's words had left her mouth—like knives sinking into his skin, cutting deeper and deeper. She had insulted him, humiliated him, spat on everything he was. But he had taken it. He had let it slide because he was used to it. He had endured worse.

But then—then she had turned to Marinette.

Called her a whore.

Disrespected her parents.

And Marinette… she hadn't even gotten mad. She had just looked heartbroken. She hadn't cared about herself—only about what Chloe had said about him.

His stomach twisted, a deep, unbearable weight pressing against his ribs. His blood burned under his skin, rage and shame twisting into something unbearable. He wasn't even sure what was eating him more—the fact that Chloe had said those words or the fact that Marinette, kind, warm Marinette, had been hurt because of him.

His hands clenched into fists again.

No.

This wasn't over.

Marinette's warmth wrapped around him, her embrace a silent plea for him to let it go. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

Chloe had crossed the line.

Without a word, he grabbed Marinette's wrist and pulled away, his grip firm but not rough. His body was tense, practically vibrating with fury.

"Gurvi—" she started, but he wasn't listening.

He was already storming back toward the cafeteria, dragging her with him.

His vision was red, his jaw locked so tight it ached. Every step he took felt like stepping deeper into fire, the heat of his anger spreading through his veins. His heart pounded so hard it drowned out everything else—the gasps of the students, the whispers, even Marinette's voice calling his name.

He didn't care.

Not anymore.

"CHLOE!"

His voice thundered through the hallway, sharp and raw. The students turned, their conversations halting instantly.

Chloe barely had time to react before he reached her.

The moment he saw her smug, careless expression, the last thread of his restraint snapped.

His hand moved before he could think.

A sharp slap echoed through the air.

Then another.

And another.

Each one landed harder than the last, his palm stinging with the force. But he didn't care. Chloe stumbled back, her hands flying up in defense, but it wasn't enough to stop him. Not after everything she had said.

Gasps rang through the cafeteria. Some students stood frozen, others whispered in shock. A few had even pulled out their phones, recording the moment.

He didn't care.

"Gurvinder, STOP!" Marinette's voice broke through the chaos, but he barely registered it. His entire body was burning, his hands trembling with rage.

Tears streamed down Chloe's face now, her arrogant expression shattered into fear. But he wasn't done.

"You think you can say whatever you want?!" His voice shook, his breath ragged. "You think you can talk about my parents, about Marinette, and just walk away?! Say it again, Chloe. SAY IT AGAIN!"

Chloe whimpered, covering her face, her usual bravado crumbling under the weight of his fury.

He raised his hand again—

"ENOUGH!"

A firm grip caught his wrist mid-air.

Adrien.

His green eyes were sharp, his jaw tight as he stared at Gurvinder, holding him back with surprising strength.

"Let her go," Adrien said, his voice low but commanding.

Gurvinder's chest heaved, his fists still clenched. His entire body was screaming for him to keep going, to make her pay for what she said. His knuckles were red, his hands aching, his vision still blurry with rage.

For a moment, he considered pushing Adrien away, considered breaking free and finishing what he started.

But then…

Marinette.

She was looking at him.

Not with fear. Not with anger.

But with sadness.

His breath caught in his throat. His shoulders dropped, the fight draining from him all at once.

His hands fell to his sides.

The rage was still there, simmering under his skin. The humiliation still burned. The words still rang in his ears.

This wasn't over.

Gurvinder didn't stop. His hand kept striking Chloe's face over and over, each slap echoing through the stunned silence of the cafeteria.

Her usual smug expression was gone, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. She shrieked, stumbling back, trying to shield herself with her arms, but he was relentless.

The students around them gasped, frozen in shock. Some whispered, others pulled out their phones, recording everything.

"Gurvinder, STOP!" Marinette yelled, trying to grab his arm, but he shook her off. His entire body was trembling, his breath ragged with fury.

He grabbed Chloe by the collar of her expensive jacket and yanked her closer, his voice dangerously low.

"You listen to me, and you listen well." His eyes were burning, his face just inches from hers. "If you ever—EVER—speak about Marinette or her parents like that again, I swear, you'll regret it."

Chloe whimpered, her lip quivering.

He let go of her roughly, pushing her back. She stumbled, her legs weak as she clutched her red, stinging cheek.

The cafeteria was dead silent. No one moved. No one spoke.

Gurvinder's chest heaved, his fists still clenched. His anger was like a wildfire, raging and uncontrollable.

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

Marinette stood there, heart pounding, watching his retreating figure.

She knew this wasn't over.

Marinette stood frozen, her mind racing. Chloe had insulted him, his parents, his entire existence—but he hadn't reacted. He had just walked away.

But the moment Chloe said something about her and her family… that was when he snapped.

Her fingers trembled as she clenched them into fists. Why? Why did he care so much about her? About her parents? Why was their honor more important to him than his own?

She turned to Alya, who was staring at the cafeteria doors where Chloe had run out.

"He didn't even flinch when she insulted him," Marinette murmured. "But the moment she talked about me and my parents…"

Alya crossed her arms, her expression serious. "That guy… he respects you more than himself, Mari. That's what makes him different."

Marinette swallowed hard. Was it just respect? Or… was it something else?

Her heart ached. She needed to find him.

The entire school was in chaos. Whispers filled the hallways, and students crowded in groups, all talking about what had just happened.

"Did you see that? Gurvinder actually slapped Chloe!"

"No one has ever dared to do that before! Even the teachers are scared of her!"

"I mean, she did go too far this time… but still!"

Some students were in shock, others in awe. Some whispered about how dangerous Gurvinder might be, while others respected him for standing up to Chloe.

Adrien, sitting silently with Nino, clenched his fists. He had never seen Gurvinder lose control like that. Marinette had hugged him, comforted him… but then he turned around and snapped.

Alya nudged Marinette. "You know everyone's saying you're the reason he lost it, right?"

Marinette's breath hitched. "I… I didn't tell him to do that…"

"I know," Alya said. "But Mari… he did it for you."

Marinette looked at the empty doorway where Gurvinder had disappeared. Her heart pounded in her chest. What was she supposed to do now?

Adrien sat at his desk, his fingers tapping against his chin as he replayed the scene in his head. Gurvinder had snapped—but not for himself. He had taken everything Chloe threw at him without a word, but the second Marinette and her family were insulted, he lost it.

Adrien had always known Chloe to be cruel, but for the first time, someone had actually stood up to her in a way that couldn't be ignored. No fancy speeches, no empty threats—just raw, unfiltered rage.

"He really cares about Marinette," Adrien thought to himself.

Plagg floated beside him, munching on a piece of cheese. "You know, for a guy you were jealous of, you're sure thinking about him a lot right now."

Adrien scoffed. "I wasn't jealous—" He stopped mid-sentence, realizing how defensive he sounded. "Okay, maybe a little. But… I think I get him now. He's not just some random guy trying to impress Marinette. He's someone who actually protects the people he cares about."

Plagg smirked. "Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

Adrien sighed, rubbing his temples. Yeah… it really does.

Adrien leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to put his thoughts into words.

"Because…" he started, exhaling sharply. "Because he doesn't care about himself. At least, not in the way most people do. He didn't fight back when Chloe insulted him, didn't even flinch when she said those disgusting things about his parents. But the moment she talked about Marinette and her family, it was like something snapped inside him."

Plagg raised an eyebrow, still nibbling on his cheese. "And that reminds you of…?"

Adrien hesitated, his fingers tightening into a fist. "Me," he admitted. "As Chat Noir, I take every hit, every insult, every failure. I can handle it. But the second someone I love is in danger—Ladybug, my friends—I lose control."

Plagg floated closer, his green eyes studying Adrien carefully. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"

Adrien let out a dry chuckle. "I don't know. But one thing's for sure—Gurvinder isn't just some random guy. He's been through hell, and he's still standing. And today? He proved that he'd do anything to protect Marinette. I…" Adrien trailed off, his chest tightening. "I respect that."

Plagg smirked. "Looks like you've got competition, lover boy."

Adrien groaned, covering his face. "Plagg, not helping."