Days had passed since Gurvinder was discharged from the hospital, and he was finally back home, recovering. Marinette, however, had been secretly planning something special for him.
Today was the day. She wanted to give him a moment away from all the chaos, a day where he didn't have to worry about anything—no court cases, no fights, no past haunting him. Just them.
As the morning sun filtered through the windows, Gurvi was still fast asleep, his face buried in the pillow, his long hair spread over the sheets. Meanwhile, Marinette stood by the mirror, adjusting her outfit, making sure everything was perfect.
She glanced back at him, a soft smile forming on her lips. "Sleep all you want, dummy. You won't see this coming."
Marinette climbed onto the bed, sitting beside him as she gently ran her fingers through his thick, long hair. With a teasing smirk, she scratched his scalp, knowing exactly how much he loved it.
Gurvinder stirred, groaning softly as he buried his face deeper into the pillow. "Mmm… five more minutes," he mumbled, clearly enjoying the feeling.
"Nope!" Marinette giggled, scratching a little more before tugging at his braid. "Wake up, sleepyhead. You're not spending the whole day in bed."
Gurvi finally cracked one eye open, looking up at her with a lazy smirk. "If you keep doing that, I might just fall asleep again."*
Gurvinder blinked a few times, trying to shake off the sleepiness, but the moment his eyes fully focused on Marinette, he froze. His breath hitched as he took her in—her hair perfectly styled, her dress hugging her just right, and that radiant smile she always had for him.
"Damn…" he muttered, sitting up straighter. "Am I still dreaming, or do you actually look this beautiful?"
Marinette rolled her eyes, though a blush crept onto her cheeks. "Oh, shut up and get ready. We have plans today."
Gurvi smirked, leaning back on his elbows. "You sure we can't just stay here? Because honestly, I might just spend the whole day staring at you."*
Gurvinder sat on the edge of the bed, letting Marinette gently brush through his long, thick hair. He could still feel the soreness in his body, the dull ache in his muscles reminding him of everything he had been through. But with Marinette's hands working through his hair, careful and affectionate, he felt something else—peace.
"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" he murmured, tilting his head slightly as she carefully undid a tangle.
Marinette smirked, running her fingers through the silky strands before continuing with the brush. "Oh, absolutely. Taking care of you, brushing your hair, helping you bathe…" She leaned down slightly, whispering teasingly near his ear. "I might be getting a little too used to it."
Gurvi let out a short laugh. "I should be embarrassed, but I honestly don't care. You spoiling me like this? I could get used to it too."
She giggled, tying his hair up neatly before pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "Well, tough luck, Singh. Because even when you're all healed up, I'm still going to do it."
Marinette stood outside the bathroom door, arms crossed as she tapped her foot impatiently. "You good in there, dummy?" she called out, teasingly.
From inside, Gurvinder groaned. "You're really standing there like a bodyguard, aren't you?"
"Of course. What if you suddenly pass out?" she shot back. "I'll kick the door down if I have to."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "I swear, you act like I'm some fragile porcelain doll."
"You nearly died, Gurvi!" she huffed. "Excuse me for actually caring!"
There was a pause before he replied, softer this time. "I know, Mari."
A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and Marinette was immediately at his side, wrapping her arm around his to help him walk. "See? I didn't die in there," he joked.
She rolled her eyes but held onto him tightly. "You're not allowed to joke about that."
Marinette guided him carefully toward the bathroom, her grip firm but gentle. "Alright, big guy, time for a proper bath. You still reek of hospitals and bed rest."
Gurvinder smirked, leaning slightly on her. "Are you sure you're not just using this as an excuse to take care of me?"
She scoffed. "Obviously. Now sit down, shut up, and let me do my thing."
She helped him sit on the small stool in the shower, making sure he was steady before turning on the warm water. As the steam filled the room, Marinette grabbed the shampoo and began massaging it into his thick, long hair, her fingers working through every knot with care.
"You know," she murmured, "for someone who used to hate being taken care of, you sure don't seem to be complaining now."
Gurvinder hummed in contentment. "Because it's you."
She paused for a moment, heart fluttering, before shaking her head. "Sap."
After washing out the shampoo, she gently poured water down his back, mindful of his still-healing scars. As she ran her hands over his shoulders, she felt the tension in his muscles and sighed. "You're still holding everything in."
"Not everything," he admitted. "You're here."
Her hands stilled for a second before she leaned forward, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "Yeah… and I'm not going anywhere."
Gurvinder chuckled, tilting his head back slightly. "Okay, you can go out now. I can wash my privates, you know."
Marinette crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "And risk you slipping because your stubborn ass refuses to admit you're still weak? Not happening."
He groaned. "Mari, come on—"
"Nope." She grabbed the loofah, squeezing soap onto it. "You're still sore, your balance is off, and I'm not letting you fall just because of your ego."
Gurvinder sighed, rubbing his face. "I swear, you enjoy this power trip too much."
She smirked, running the loofah over his chest. "Damn right I do."
As they stepped out of the bathroom, steam still lingering in the air, Gurvinder ran a towel through his damp hair while Marinette supported him. But before they could even take a few steps, they both froze in surprise.
Standing right there in the room, smiling warmly, were Tom and Sabine—holding a tray of breakfast.
"Good morning, lovebirds," Tom teased, his voice full of amusement.
Marinette immediately stiffened, her face turning red. "Papa!"
Gurvinder, still drying his hair, just smirked. "Well, this is awkward."
Sabine chuckled, placing the tray down on the table. "Oh, please. We're just happy to see you up and moving, Gurvinder."
"And we thought you might need some energy after… you know, all that 'help' Marinette's been giving you," Tom added with a knowing grin.
Marinette groaned, covering her face. "I hate you both right now."
Gurvinder just laughed, shaking his head. "You guys are having way too much fun with this."*
Marinette, face burning red, let out an exasperated groan before marching toward her parents. "Alright, alright, OUT!" she huffed, pushing both Tom and Sabine toward the door.
"But we brought breakfast—" Tom tried to argue, barely holding back his laughter.
"Leave it and GO!" she snapped, her ears practically steaming.
Sabine giggled as she let herself be shoved out. "Alright, alright, we'll let you two have your privacy."
"Enjoy your meal, lovebirds," Tom teased one last time before Marinette slammed the door shut behind them.
She turned back to Gurvinder, still flustered, only to see him grinning at her. "Your parents are having way too much fun with this," he mused, crossing his arms.
Marinette let out a frustrated sigh before walking back to him. "I swear, they live to embarrass me," she muttered before grabbing a piece of bread from the tray and shoving it in his mouth. "Now eat before I kill you."*
Marinette huffed as she grabbed the towel and gently wrapped it around Gurvinder's head. "You and this ridiculously long hair..." she muttered, rubbing the fabric over his thick locks to absorb the excess water.
Gurvinder smirked, leaning back slightly. "You love it," he teased.
She rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. "I do. But that doesn't mean it's not a pain to dry," she retorted, continuing to work through the heavy strands.
As she slowly unraveled the towel, she ran her fingers through his damp hair, making sure it wasn't tangled. "I've been taking care of you for days now. Bathing you, washing your hair, brushing it..." she trailed off, smirking. "You're getting spoiled, Singh."*
Gurvinder let out a low chuckle. "Not my fault you enjoy it so much," he said, his voice laced with amusement.
Marinette clicked her tongue, tossing the towel aside before grabbing a comb. "Shut up and sit still," she ordered playfully as she started combing through the thick strands.
As Marinette carefully combed through Gurvinder's hair, a sudden knock on the door made them both pause.
"Yo, lovebirds, open up!" Alya's teasing voice rang from the other side.
Marinette groaned, rolling her eyes. "Can we not have a moment of peace?" she muttered under her breath.
Gurvinder smirked. "They're just jealous of our domestic bliss," he said, stretching his sore limbs.
Marinette playfully smacked his arm before walking over to open the door. As soon as she did, Alya, Nino, and Adrien stepped in, grinning at the sight of Gurvinder sitting on the bed, his long damp hair draped over his shoulders while Marinette held a comb in her hand.
"Damn, Gurvi, she's got you all domesticated now," Nino joked, nudging Adrien.
Adrien chuckled. "I never thought I'd see the day where someone would willingly take care of all that hair."*
Alya smirked, arms crossed. "And judging by Marinette's face, she's enjoying every second of it."*
Marinette huffed. "You all are the worst."*
Gurvinder, still smirking, leaned back. "Nah, let them talk, Princess. We both know you love this."*
Marinette turned red but didn't deny it, much to the amusement of their friends.
Adrien crossed his arms and smirked. "Do we need a reason to visit our dear friend who just survived a murder attempt, won a court case, and is now being pampered like a king?"
"Yeah, yeah, we just wanted to check in on you," Nino added. "Make sure Marinette isn't suffocating you with all the love and care."*
Marinette rolled her eyes. "Excuse me for taking care of my injured boyfriend."*
"Boyfriend!" Alya grinned. "Finally saying it out loud, huh?"
Gurvinder smirked at Marinette, who was now slightly flustered. "She's been saying a lot of things lately. You should hear how much she keeps yapping about how much she loves me."*
Marinette smacked his shoulder. "You're impossible!"*
Adrien chuckled before looking at Gurvi more seriously. "But really, man, how are you feeling?"
Gurvi stretched a little, still feeling the soreness in his muscles. "Like I got run over by a train, but I'll live."*
"Good," Alya said, stepping closer. "Because Paris kinda lost its mind over your case, and the media won't shut up about you."*
Gurvi raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Alya set her laptop on the bed, opening a live news broadcast. Marinette sat beside Gurvi, gently placing his long, damp hair behind his back as they both focused on the screen.
The news anchor spoke with urgency. "In an incredible turn of events, Gurvinder Singh, the boy at the center of the highly publicized legal battle, has not only won his case but has also captured the attention of the entire city. His story—of survival, injustice, and resilience—has sparked debates, protests, and overwhelming support from the public."*
The screen shifted to footage of people gathered outside the courthouse, holding signs that read 'Justice for Gurvinder' and 'Strength Personified'. Social media clips played, showing thousands of messages praising his bravery, his strength, and his unbreakable spirit.
"He's being called 'Paris's Lionhearted' by many," the anchor continued. "Meanwhile, combat experts and self-defense instructors are analyzing footage of his fights, debating whether he has formal training or if his instincts are purely those of a survivor."*
Gurvi scoffed. "Experts? What, are they trying to dissect my moves like I'm some kind of action movie protagonist?"
Adrien smirked. "Well, you did take down twelve guys alone. People are bound to be curious."*
"Wait, there's more," Alya said, clicking on another video.
The news then cut to an interview with a legal expert discussing the case. "This trial was more than just about immigration or legal guardianship—it exposed deep flaws in the system that allowed this young man to suffer for so long. But despite everything, Gurvinder Singh emerged victorious. And more importantly, he has proven that he is not just a fighter in the ring, but in life itself."*
Marinette glanced at Gurvi as he sat in silence, his jaw tight. She reached over, gently covering his hand with hers.
"They see you now," she whispered. "The real you."*
Gurvi exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a smirk. "Took them long enough."*
Alya clicked on another tab, bringing up a different viral post.
"This one blew up overnight," she said, turning the laptop so Gurvi and Marinette could see.
The screen played a grainy but intense video—Gurvi, already bloodied and exhausted, standing his ground against twenty men. His movements were slower than usual, his body struggling to keep up, but despite everything, he fought relentlessly. And then there was Marinette, desperately trying to pull him away, stepping in front of him, using whatever she could to shield him, refusing to leave his side.
The post was flooded with comments:
— "He was already half-dead, yet he still protected her. This guy is built different."
— "And she was protecting him too. Their bond is insane."
— "This isn't just love, this is war."
— "If my man doesn't fight 20 guys for me while bleeding out, I don't want him."
Adrien let out a low whistle. "Well, at least the internet's getting the story right this time."*
"Of course they are," Alya grinned. "The entire world just watched him fight for her with his last breath, and her refusing to leave him even when it meant risking her life. People eat this kind of thing up."*
Marinette glanced at Gurvi, whose expression was unreadable as he watched the footage.
"What?" he finally said, catching her staring.
"Nothing..." Marinette whispered, eyes soft. "Just... you really would die for me, wouldn't you?"
He snorted. "Haven't I proven that enough times?"
Marinette exhaled, shaking her head before leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. "Idiot."*
Breaking News: Mahendra Singh Sentenced to Life in Prison
Alya turned up the volume as the news anchor's voice filled the room. Marinette and Gurvinder sat close, their hands intertwined as they listened. Adrien and Nino leaned in, watching the screen intently.
"In a historic ruling, Mahendra Singh has been sentenced to life in prison after being found guilty of multiple crimes, including child abuse, human trafficking, attempted murder, and obstruction of justice. The court's decision comes after overwhelming evidence, including witness testimonies, photographic proof, and medical reports confirming years of brutal mistreatment inflicted upon his nephew, Gurvinder Singh."
The screen changed, showing footage from the courtroom—Mahendra's face twisted in shock and rage as the judge read out his sentence.
"The charges against Mahendra Singh are extensive. For years, he exploited his nephew, forcing him into illegal fights and subjecting him to extreme physical and psychological abuse. The court found him guilty of child endangerment and forced labor, carrying a punishment of up to life imprisonment."
Marinette tightened her grip on Gurvinder's hand as they showed images of his scars, his body battered and bruised. His childhood photo flashed next—a smiling, carefree boy before life was stolen from him. Gurvinder swallowed hard, the weight of everything sinking in.
"In addition to the abuse, Mahendra Singh was charged with attempted murder after orchestrating a brutal attack on Gurvinder. The court handed down a 30-year sentence for the attempted murder charge alone. Furthermore, his involvement in illegal immigration and document forgery resulted in a five-year prison term and a 75,000 fine. His repeated physical assaults, verified through photographic evidence, carried an additional 10-year sentence."
The news then cut to a statement from the judge himself:
"From the moment I saw Gurvinder Singh, I saw a boy carrying burdens far beyond his years. His strength, his will to survive, and his refusal to give in to the darkness forced upon him are why justice has been served today. Mahendra Singh will never again hold power over him or anyone else."
Back in the room, Marinette wiped her eyes. Gurvinder exhaled, letting his head drop onto her shoulder as the reality of it all settled in.
"With obstruction of justice added to his crimes, Mahendra Singh's total sentence amounts to life in prison with no chance of parole for the next 40 years. The French court has also permanently barred him from any guardianship or legal rights over minors, ensuring he will never harm another child again."
The report ended with a clip of Mahendra being dragged out of court, screaming about injustice while the gathered public cheered the verdict. Alya smirked.
"Damn," she muttered, closing her laptop. "The guy thought he could manipulate his way out, but he forgot one thing."
"What's that?" Nino asked.
Alya grinned. "He messed with the wrong people."
Gurvinder let out a tired laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah… and he paid the price."
As Alya closed her laptop, Nino stretched his arms. "Well, that was intense," he said, before raising an eyebrow. "But hold on—what's up with you, Mari?"
Adrien and Alya turned their heads, finally noticing Marinette's outfit. She was dressed beautifully, her hair styled with extra care, a soft but elegant touch to her makeup, and a sparkle in her eyes that wasn't just from relief.
"Ohhh, hold up," Alya smirked, crossing her arms. "You're all dressed up. What's the occasion?"
Gurvinder, still sitting on the bed, blinked as if he was seeing her properly for the first time. He'd been so caught up in everything—the news, the relief, the overwhelming emotions—that he hadn't even registered how stunning she looked.
"Wait…" he said, narrowing his eyes. "You really did all this for me?"
Marinette gave a knowing smile. "Well, duh." She flicked his forehead gently. "You think I'd let my dummy sit at home all day recovering without doing something special for him?"
Alya gasped dramatically. "Oh my god, is this a date?"
Marinette smirked but didn't answer. Instead, she turned to Gurvinder and held out her hand. "Come on, you're not spending another day in bed."
Gurvinder chuckled, shaking his head. "You really don't know when to stop, do you?"
"Never," she grinned. "Now, get up. We're going out."
Their friends exchanged knowing looks, barely holding back their laughter.
"Oh, we definitely don't want to be third-wheeling this," Alya teased, nudging Nino.
Adrien smirked. "Have fun, lovebirds."
Marinette rolled her eyes, but a soft blush dusted her cheeks. Gurvinder just sighed, shaking his head at them.
"Yeah, yeah, get lost already," he said, waving them off.
With playful giggles and teasing smirks, the three made their way to the door. Before leaving, Alya turned back and shot Marinette a wink. "Don't do anything too crazy."
Marinette scoffed. "Just go!"
As the door shut behind them, she turned back to Gurvinder, still smirking. "Now, where were we?"
Gurvinder smirked. "Oh yeah, you were playing maid for me."
Marinette huffed, grabbing the towel again and gently running it through his thick, long hair. "Taking care of you isn't being a maid, dummy. You better appreciate this, because not everyone gets a personal hairstylist like me."
Gurvi chuckled, leaning back slightly. "Oh, I do. Believe me, I really do."
She kept drying his hair, her fingers working through the strands with care. "You know… I never thought I'd enjoy doing this so much. But now, I kinda love it."
Gurvinder raised a brow, glancing at her. "Love what exactly? Taking care of me or messing with my hair?"
Marinette grinned. "Both."
Marinette carefully ran the comb through his thick, damp locks, working through every tangle with gentle precision. Her fingers followed the comb's path, smoothing each section as she went.
Gurvinder sat still, his head slightly tilted forward, letting her do her work. "You know, you do this better than me at this point," he muttered.
Marinette smirked. "Obviously. I've had so much practice these past few days." She carefully separated a stubborn knot, her touch firm yet tender. "Besides, I like doing this. It's kind of... calming."
He let out a small chuckle. "Calming for you. I'm the one getting my scalp scratched like a cat."
She giggled. "Then stop purring."
He rolled his eyes but leaned into her touch slightly as she continued. "Fine. But don't get used to it."
She snorted. "Oh, I already have."
After detangling every strand with care, Marinette gathered his thick, heavy hair and began wrapping it on top of his head, her fingers weaving through the familiar weight with practiced ease.
She secured it in place, then reached for the base cloth, gently tying it around his head to create a firm foundation for his turban.
Gurvinder watched her through the mirror, his gaze soft. "You've really learned, haven't you?"
Marinette smirked, adjusting the fabric with precision. "Of course. You think I'd let anyone else do this for you?"
He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "No chance."
She tugged the base cloth snugly. "Exactly."
Marinette took the long fabric in her hands, her movements steady and precise as she began wrapping his turban. She had done this so many times now that it felt natural, almost second nature.
Gurvinder sat still, watching her in the mirror as she carefully layered each fold, making sure it was perfect. Her fingers pressed gently against his scalp, securing the cloth with the care of someone who truly understood its importance.
"You've gotten good at this," Gurvinder murmured, his voice laced with admiration.
Marinette smirked. "I had the best teacher. And I kind of like doing it, you know? Taking care of you like this."
He huffed, amused. "You just like bossing me around."
She rolled her eyes but smiled, continuing to wrap the final layers. "Maybe. But mostly, I love knowing you trust me with this."
As she tucked the last fold into place, she stepped back, admiring her work. "Perfect," she said softly.
Gurvinder glanced at himself in the mirror before looking back at her. "Yeah. It is." But his eyes weren't on the turban—they were on her.
Marinette wasn't surprised by how good he looked—she had seen him in his turban countless times, and every time, he carried it with the same quiet strength. Without a word, she moved on, grabbing the outfit she had picked for him.
"Arms up," she instructed, slipping a crisp shirt onto him. Gurvinder obeyed, though his movements were still slow from the soreness. She buttoned it up for him, smoothing out the fabric before helping him into a tailored jacket.
"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" he muttered, watching her fuss over every detail.
"Of course," she grinned. "I have to make sure my dummy looks perfect."
He smirked but didn't argue. Instead, he let her finish, standing still as she adjusted his collar, fixed his sleeves, and finally took a step back to inspect him.
Marinette placed her hands on her hips, nodding approvingly. "Now you look like someone worth all the trouble I went through."
Gurvinder raised an eyebrow. "You mean the trouble I went through?"
She just winked and took his hand. "Come on, we have places to be."