Chapter 4 - Somebody Help Me, I think my Boyfriend Hates Me

Marinette's POV:

I was not ready.

I repeat—I. Was. Not. Ready.

The plan was simple.

You know, normal. Nothing too complicated.

Take a nice long shower, blast some music, maybe dance around in my towel pretending I'm in a shampoo commercial.

Then wear something cute, not too cute, just enough to say 'I'm effortlessly hot, but also chill' maybe throw on a lil lip gloss, run a brush through my hair and voilà, ready for my very normal boyfriend coming over to help me learn Chinese.

But did that happen?

No. No, of course not.

Because I am me.

And I completely forgot Adrien was coming in the morning.

Because last night Alya and I stayed up talking about Shadow Moth theories and hunting down super sketchy forums that mentioned weird akuma energy patterns in the city. Alya's deep in her Ladybug Researcher Era and honestly? She's killing it. But it meant I passed out at like….3 AM.

So there I was, fresh out the shower, hair dripping, towel barely staying up as I stood in the middle of my room like a gremlin.

And then—

"Marinette! He's here!" Tikki squeaked from my desk, eyes wide.

My soul left my body.

"He's what?!" I whisper-screamed, almost slipping as I scrambled around.

"No. No, no, no. He said morning, but not this early in the morning!"

"Marinette, it's 10:15 AM. That is morning," Tikki deadpanned, floating over with her tiny arms crossed.

I panicked. Obviously. Clothes. I needed clothes.

I couldn't exactly open the door in a towel like some kind of walking thirst trap.

So I yanked on the first top I could find—an oversized white tee with a cherry blossom print and grabbed the nearest pair of jeans. They were my favorite mid-rise ones that hugged my hips.

Not skin-tight but since I hadn't dried off properly, they sort of stuck to my skin.

I probably look like a mess.

I didn't even have time to check the mirror. My hair was in a messy bun, water still dripping down the back of my neck and my cheeks were already red from running around like a maniac.

I whispered to myself like a madwoman as I bolted downstairs.

"It's fine. Totally fine. You're dating him. He's seen you trip into lockers. This is fine. You are fine"

I opened the door.

And there he was. Adrien freaking Agreste. My boyfriend. Standing there in a plain black tshirt and jeans, holding a couple of Mandarin textbooks.

"H-Hey," I smiled, trying not to die as I spotted the way his eyes widened for half-second before his usual model smile kicked in.

Maybe he's thinking I look plain and ordinary.

Gosh! I want to dig up a hole and stay there forever.

Somebody Help Me, I think my Boyfriend Hates Me