A/N
Hi fellow Miraculous lovers!
I've been wanting to write a story like this for awhile but I never properly sat down to get the ball rolling. I don't really have a strict guideline of story length, but I anticipate at least 10 chapters. In light of that, please don't hesitate to leave a review on the current ones available!
I expect that I can update at least once a fortnight unless uni and life, in general, gets too hectic. So, please understand that as much as I want to update, this is both a personal project and a craft, which requires time and energy. Also, I use UK English, but I will try to use generalised terms that most people will understand.
For those who want abit more information before beginning, this story is essentially exploring the mature side of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir. I started watching the show as an adult, so I think there are some crucial aspects that could be explored in depth, something that many established authors here have done. For this fic, the inspiration is around the events of Chat Blanc, an episode that I deem essential to Marinette's character growth. This story is set 6 years after that incident so both Marinette and Adrien are 20 years old. While I am up to date with all the seasons, I am ignoring season 5. So, consider this as a warning that I'm picking and choosing which canonical events exist in this plotline.
CW: there may be mentions of some depressing and even suicidal thoughts which I deem crucial to the story. Please be mindful of your own well-being and take care x
She was drowning - no, sinking…
There was a difference, she thought absently, noting the lack of pressure around her throat. Last time, it was suffocation that jolted her awake, greedily gasping air and stumbling around the apartment to turn all the lights on. It had been a wonder that she hadn't woken Alya in her bleary-eyed frantic state. Not even cussing and barely concealed sobs had summoned her best friend from her slumber.
This time, Marinette simply... fell.
Despite the durability of the ladybug transformation suit, she felt the chill of the otherwise stagnant water. Somehow she was aware of her respiratory limitations and raised the yo-yo to her face, intending to activate its fresh air function. To her horror, her clawed hands were a pale blue - no, white, and her trusted weapon that had morphed into a compact mirror was displaying a reflection that was not her own.
Cold blue eyes stared back at her.
—
Marinette ignored the concerned gaze directed at her. It wasn't the first time that morning that Alya had attempted to converse, and she knew that her best friend and recent roommate wouldn't give up entirely. So far, she'd gotten away with quietly sipping coffee and scrolling the latest headlines from her sunny spot on the couch. A side glance confirmed, however, that Alya had not moved from the doorway.
Marinette sighed. Tossing her beaten phone on the couch, she rearranged her position to sit cross-legged, looking pointedly at Alya who still had her arms crossed.
"You make an imposing bodyguard," Marinette teased and raised the cat-printed mug to her lips again. The phone slid onto the floor with a thunk and she sighed dejectedly but made no move to retrieve it. The other woman's lips quirked slightly and she crossed the short distance to hop over the piece of furniture and sit on the opposite end of the couch, facing Marinette.
"It's a good thing you didn't make me spill my coffee," Marinette scowled lightly.
"Good thing you've already had a cup, then," Alya replied, eyebrows raised. Resuming her upper body stance of folded arms, she stared at Marinette pointedly.
Her damp hair piled on top of her head and casual clothing indicated that she had recently returned from her morning gym workout and it dawned on Marinette that the noisy water pipes of the shower must've been what had woken her from the second bout of sleep. The bathroom was situated in the center of the cozy apartment which was only inconvenient when the two occupants had differing sleep schedules, thereby dictating their showering patterns.
By the time Marinette had become fully conscious for the second time that morning, the clock on her phone had read 8:13am. It was just enough time for her to replenish her unfinished cup of coffee and settle back in her nest of blankets before Alya charged out with a look of determination. Opting to ignore her flatmate and appreciate the peace before the inevitable questions, Marinette had simply pretended she wasn't there. The silence from Alya had only lasted three blessed minutes.
"I woke up," Marinette shrugged. "Didn't want to go back to sleep." There was no use denying it. Everyone knew that Alya Césaire had the journalist eyes and ears of a hawk.
"I heard," Alya replied quietly, reaching out to clasp her friend's hand. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Marinette winced. "Just another variation of the same nightmare," she said with another shrug.
"I'm sorry you had to hear that."
Smiling sympathetically, Alya squeezed her hand before scooting closer to the nest of blankets. In the process, she scooped Marinette's fallen phone off the floor and placed it on the coffee table.
"That poor phone is going to need replacing soon," she mused, and Marinette was grateful for the subject change.
"I know." It had already been repaired twice, courtesy of a friend who lived and breathed technology. He'd advised her to replace it within the next year or so because she'd had it for five years, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. For now, she was content.
"But it does the job." She removed her hand from Alya's grip so she could stretch but a wave of dizziness forced her to stay seated. It was so quick that Alya hopefully hadn't noticed. Peering at her friend, Marinette grimaced at the same concerned expression that seemed permanently etched on her face nowadays. Instead of commenting on Marinette's display, however, Alya stood.
"Get dressed," she announced, already moving toward her bedroom.
"Why?" Marinette called begrudgingly after her. "It's Saturday." She managed to stand fully, relieved that the previous wave of vertigo had passed.
"Exactly!" came the shouted response from across the apartment. "You have nowhere to be, so we're going out for breakfast!"
Marinette frowned. "What if I've already eaten?" she grumbled sarcastically. Was she that transparent?
"Have you?" Both friends knew the answer to that.
Marinette scowled. Sometimes she hated that she'd asked Alya to move in with her. Sure, she hated living alone and was desperate for company, but did the woman really need to breathe down her neck?
No. Bad Marinette, she scolded herself. Thinking like that was unfair to Alya who was doing her best to support her. It's just breakfast.
"As long as we're not going to the bakery," she relented. Maman and Papa would likely attempt to force-feed her and then send them both home with a large box of baked goods that would go to waste. Sure, Alya liked the Dupain-Cheng's food, but it was too much for her alone, and Marinette hadn't had the heart to inform them that eating was not a priority for their only daughter.
"I promise we're not," Alya replied, emerging from her room with her customary key lanyard, phone, and sunglasses. Marinette was passing her down the hallway when she said gently, "I think they would appreciate seeing you, though."
Of course, they fucking would. Annoyance bubbled within her again and Marinette sighed bitterly, resisting the urge to slam her bedroom door. Tears of self-pity gathered but she forced them back with practised blinking and intentionally hardening her face. Glancing at her 'could-be-worn-again' pile of clothes, she selected a pair of dark shorts and an oversized purple shirt that was shades lighter than its original colour. Deciding on a merino wool long-sleeve to fight the early spring chill, she donned the clothing before sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on some patterned socks.
Instead of leaving her room straight away, she allowed herself a few seconds to mentally prepare herself for the outing, running her fingers through her lightly tangled hair. Apparently, the silence was too much because she dimly heard a familiar squeaky voice whispering encouragement and she whipped her head around.
Tikki?
Shaking her head vehemently, Marinette breathed deeply, reminding herself to get her shit together. Tikki was gone. She wasn't Ladybug. She didn't care.
Straightening up, she left her haven and made her way to the front door where Alya appeared to be texting someone on her phone. Her friend grinned as Marinette put on a black pair of knee-high lace-up boots.
"Love the fit, girl!"
Marinette smiled wryly and zipped up the other boot. They were her favourite pair - quite possibly the most treasured article of clothing that she'd bought. Practically flat with a small heel, they had become a wardrobe staple for when Marinette was feeling extremely insecure and discouraged. Wearing them, she almost felt like Ladybug again, like she could kick some villain's ass and still look good. Those days were long in the past, and she'd made peace with the fact that her heroine days had greatly impacted her current lifestyle.
Maybe too much, another thought intruded. She blinked that one away.
With renewed vigour, the two women ventured down the two stories of stairs and into the crisp Parisian air.
—
It was no surprise to Adrien that he was the first one to arrive at the café.
Punctuality had never been Nino's finest characteristic, likely because he'd never had an iron-fist schedule during his teenage years. At least he'd had the forethought to text him about his brief tardiness, which Adrien appreciated - not that he particularly cared. Tight schedules were his father's thing and Adrien had realised with the help of Plagg that he didn't have to live the same way.
It probably helped that he'd moved out of home a few months ago with the assistance of Nino and was now enjoying the absence of any modeling commitments.
Now sheltering inside at a table with a small patch of sun, he smiled at the thought of catching up with Nino again. This was the place they frequented at least once a month, which had become a pleasant routine for Adrien. Throughout his teen years, it had been rare for him to see friends outside of high school hours, and he vowed to make the most of it now. Too much time had been lost to moping and longing.
The small chime of the bell announced the entrance of another customer and Adrien turned around to see his best friend adjusting his ever-present cap. A small wave brought Nino's scanning eyes to Adrien, and he grinned, removing the headphones that Adrien had gifted him as a thank-you gift.
After accepting the customary hug, Adrien was surprised as Nino tugged him toward a larger table with two extra seats.
"What was wrong with my spot?" He sputtered, disappointed at being pulled away from the sunshine.
"The girls are joining us," Nino explained. "Didn't you get my text?" Adrien fumbled for his phone and saw that there were indeed two unread texts from 'The Dude'.
Not bothering to read them now, he took the seat closest to the window, back facing the entrance. If luck was on his side, in ten or so minutes, the sun might stream through the glass and bask him in its warmth again.
"Alya?" He asked, struggling against a frown.
The Ladyblogger had never joined their monthly catch-up before. In truth, Adrien had intentionally not sought her company over the past few years, but Nino didn't need to know that.
"Yup," Nino responded. "I'm sorry," he rambled, still furiously texting. "We can reschedule our own catch-up if you want. Alya just really wanted to get Marinette out of -"
His own sharp exhale and an almost minuscule gasp from his right prevented Adrien from hearing the rest of Nino's speech. He twitched, hand automatically reaching up to scratch the back of his neck where the hair was now gathered in a small ponytail before clearing his throat and forcing his limb to relax. Elbow placed on the table, he let his chin rest in the palm of his hand, grateful that Nino had been too distracted by his phone to witness his friend's falter.
Casting a brief glare at the satchel that leaned against the glass, Adrien redirected his attention to the man across from him and hoped he didn't sound as troubled as he felt.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" It was a dumb question. There was only one Marinette in both of their lives.
As Nino hummed affirmatively, memories resurfaced from their final months of junior high. It seemed she'd wanted nothing to do with him then. He supposed the former months hadn't been much better, where she could barely have a conversation with him. But while she'd at least attempted to be his friend despite his limited knowledge of socialising, she'd later avoided him altogether. During high school, she'd even gone out of her way to lobby feeble excuses when he was present, and he'd never had the courage to confront her about the blatant rejection.
It was later revealed to Adrien that his bumbling friend had harboured a massive crush on him, which further confused him. Sure, he'd been surprised and even frustrated about how oblivious his teen self had been, but the new information hadn't offered any insight into his deteriorating friendship with the girl. Any efforts to salvage their relationship had only seemed to widen the rift, and Adrien was certain that Marinette no longer considered him a friend.
He hesitated. "Are you sure she wants to see me?" Did she even know he was going to be here? Had Alya at least prepared her unlike Nino had for him? What if she wasn't ready to see him and she bolted like all those times back at high school?
"I dunno man," Nino answered carefully. "I'm sorry this was so sudden. Alya only just mentioned it half an hour ago." At Adrien's lack of response, he continued, "Hopefully she's over whatever it was? I mean, high school finished 2 years ago."
Taking a deep breath to settle the dread that now buzzed in every nerve, Adrien hoped he looked at least a little bit excited to see his old friend.
Nino didn't understand that only he had witnessed the anguish on Marinette's face all those years prior. He'd never forget that her eyes had welled up with tears as she babbled an incoherent apology and how she didn't return to the class home-room for the remaining three years of school together. That was the last time she'd ever looked his way and Adrien knew that somehow, it was his fault.
Apparently no one understood the walking contrast that was Marinette Dupain-Cheng - a sentiment which continued to this day - and she couldn't deny the dichotomous weight of feeling equally content and isolated.
When Marinette halted their walk to the café and practically begged Alya to tell her the date, her friend's curious stare didn't go unnoticed. She was relieved that Alya offered no questions, which was just as well considering that any explanation would be written off as a weak fabrication. She also hated the tight smile that slid across Alya's usually cheerful face.
A moody silence settled as Marinette contemplated when she'd last witnessed her friend's wide smile. How long had it been since they'd laughed together or debated one of Alya's bizarre theories? With a pang of guilt, she realised that she couldn't remember. The familiar ache returned behind her eyes as Marinette resolved to see her best friend smile today. So, she did something she hadn't initiated in a long time; she grabbed her hand.
Alya was so startled she instantly ripped her hand out of Marinette's loose grip. Upon seeing Marinette's watery gaze, however, she reclaimed her dainty fingers, connecting their palms with a fierce squeeze. She was beaming.
Marinette smiled back softly then focused on breathing deeply, pleasantly appreciating the mix of scents in the air. The smell of fresh croissants, coffee, fuel, and damp pavement filled her nostrils, and Marinette enjoyed the squelch of stepping in a random puddle. It had rained last night, and she pondered whether her current theory of harsh weather correlating with her nightmares had merit.
She tuned into Alya's renewed chatter just as she mentioned that her boyfriend would be joining them for breakfast. Marinette paused, considering that information. She hated third-wheeling, but she supposed it was better than facing the empty apartment in the wake of her previous nightmare. Besides, she hadn't seen Nino in a while and she supposed there was no harm in catching up with him. He was her oldest friend, after all.
After another lapse of walking in silence, Alya tugged Marinette toward a small building that had large windows. She didn't recognise the place but she assumed that this was where Nino and Alya had agreed to meet. Alya didn't immediately reach for the front door, instead pulling her to the side to let other customers enter. Marinette raised a hand to block the sun peeking through the gaps of two taller buildings and squinted at her friend, asking what the issue was.
Alya took a deep breath and looked Marinette in the eyes. "Adrien is here as well," she said cautiously.
Oh.
Automatically reaching for the non-existent purse at her hip, Marinette's hands momentarily clenched at her sides before reaching up to pull the loose braid over her shoulder.
"Oh, um…" She yanked the long sleeves of her outfit down until the ends covered her palms and crossed her arms self-consciously. "Are you sure he wants to see me?"
The tragedy that was Marinette and Adrien's failed friendship was something Alya had pestered her about plenty of times in the past, and she wouldn't be surprised if the unexpected reunion was another one of Alya's schemes to rekindle the connection.
A bitter laugh escaped her as Alya grabbed her hand again, though Marinette barely registered any words being said. Marinette gritted her teeth, willing her facial features into a mask of steel.
Marinette's relationship with Adrien was damaged beyond repair; she'd made sure of that.
She considered bailing, something that Alya appeared to anticipate though she offered no protest. Unfortunately, the fear of being alone in the apartment outweighed her apprehension of the impending reunion, so Marinette offered her most convincing smile.
"Let's just get on with it then!" she said as brightly as possible, marching toward the door of the café. After unsuccessfully pulling it open, Marinette pushed into the building, sarcastically bowing as Alya followed her inside with a laugh. Letting the door swing shut, she scowled at the side of Alya's head. The redhead winked in return.
"There's the Mari I know and love," she declared cheekily, grabbing Marinette's hand again and tugging her toward a table closer to the back of the moderately sized space.
Ducking around a small queue, Marinette let Alya drag her toward two people who sat facing each other beside a section of glass. Instantly recognising Nino as the man facing their direction, she gulped as a rush of panic accompanied the revelation that the blond with a small ponytail had to be Adrien, the one person she'd spent the past few years painstakingly avoiding.
Alya's strong grip prevented Marinette from ripping her wrist away and bolting, and Marinette contemplated digging her heels into the floor, the movement that had worked when they were teenagers. But then the blond turned around to greet them and Marinette knew she was fucked. Their eyes met for the barest second and Marinette ducked her head in shame, berating herself.
Remember, remember, remember.
Familiar icy eyes flashed before her and she exhaled slowly, feeling her resolve harden.
Alya pecked Nino on the cheek and sat beside him, which left the seat next to Adrien as Marinette's only option. Gripping the frame of the chair, she offered Nino a wan smile and opted to only say 'good morning'. Despite the churning in her stomach, she supposed it was more fortunate to be sitting beside the subject of her tension to stave off the chances of looking at him again.
A menu overtook her view of the table-top as Marinette sat down, and she muttered a 'thanks' before reading its contents with more intensity than necessary. Stiffening as she heard the soft 'you're welcome' from her right, she gripped the card even tighter.
The others started chattering about mundane things and when Marinette finally set the menu down, Alya pushed a full glass of water in her direction. She glared at her friend, indignant at being babied in front of her old friends. Alya silently pleaded with her eyes, and Marinette gulped the water down, almost slamming the glass back on the table in annoyance.
She stuck her tongue out at Alya's small smile of satisfaction, blinking as the emptied glass in front of her suddenly started filling with more water. With horror, Marinette's eyes also caught the glint of a familiar-looking ring that encircled the slender finger of a pale hand.
As a white version of the same ring suddenly replaced the one on the man's finger, Marinette's breathing shallowed as she sat frozen, tracking the movement of the hand. Unfortunately, Adrien's hand immediately returned to the nape of his neck before reaching up to sweep his face, so Marinette was left staring at the side of his head where loose tendrils of hair peeked out from underneath the pierced lobe.
And then he was looking at her with an uncertain smile and Marinette hoped the feeling of despair wasn't reflected on her face. She stubbornly stared at the stubble that dotted his chin, momentarily regretful that she hadn't been able to witness his transition into 'manhood' the way she could have. And yet it was for the best. She knew that.
Whipping her gaze forward again, her hands clenched into fists under the table.
No one knew that by distancing herself from Adrien, Marinette was preventing the biggest catastrophe Paris had yet to see. Just like no one with a pair of eyes would suspect that poor, isolated Marinette could be the famed heroine who had disappeared from Paris five years ago. And no one could know that yesterday was the anniversary of her decision, the day she renounced her sweet kwami.
She had made that sacrifice and she had suffered the consequences.
It's for the best.
The chilling memories of Chat Blanc were the only reminder she needed to stay the course.
—
Adrien was sorely regretting his seat choice.
Now bathed in the ray of sun that he'd previously hoped for, he knew that the perspiration gathering on various areas of his body was bound to make an appearance soon.
Taking even breaths as he'd practiced with his therapist, Adrien was temporarily relieved that his favourite white shirt had been in the wash pile. Though fairly breathable, it would be painfully obvious if his armpits began sweating. Instead, he suffocated in the dark Death Note shirt that Nino had gifted him.
When Alya and Marinette left with the collective order, he avoided Nino's concerned gaze and smoothed his shirt with trembling hands. If his friend noticed, he didn't comment on it, and Adrien let his hands fall into his lap under the table.
"I'm fine," he blurted out to Nino whose eyes flickered over Adrien's shoulder before resting on him again. Nino leaned in closer, speaking lowly.
"Are you sure?" Adrien nodded with a weak smile. "'Cause if you need to leave, we understand." Adrien paused, grateful for his friend's support and pondering whether he did want to leave. Marinette's disposition was expected to some degree, but he certainly couldn't say that he was comfortable. If anything, he felt cornered, something he'd not experienced in a while. And this blasted sun was not helping.
"I mean, I still don't understand what happened," Nino was continuing uncertainly, "but Als and I were hoping you two could… reconnect?"
And there it was. Adrien sighed.
While grateful to his best mate, the situation was feeling a tad reminiscent of their teenage years when Alya and Nino had conveniently left him and Marinette alone. He'd never understood why the couple went through all the effort until the revelation of Marinette's crush years later. Even now, the fact that Nino and Alya had been conspiring on his behalf was a fraction annoying.
"I know," Adrien replied. "It's honestly ok."
In truth, this very encounter was testing all the progress that he'd made in therapy. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was one of the girls whose constant rejection had shattered his self-confidence. Sure, Ladybug's sudden departure was what had delivered the final blow, but it was his withering friendship with Marinette that had chipped away at his fragile ego, making Ladybug's final goodbye much more devastating.
Sure, his father had sought to restore their relationship not long after that tormenting period, but the threat of rejection loomed over Adrien, interfering with every action. The Agreste brand suffered as Adrien fought panic attacks, retreated from the public eye, and was later admitted to hospital for a failed overdose. It was a blessed coincidence that Hawkmoth had ceased his relentless attacks on Paris during that time.
Adrien swallowed hard, counting the number of pale gold stars on the menu to re-center himself. It seemed no relaxation techniques could prevent the familiar pang of hurt attacked him as the girls returned with a table number and Marinette visibly stiffened. Holding his breath momentarily before releasing it slowly, Adrien willed his shoulders to relax. If Plagg saw him now, he'd likely compare him to a kitten with its fur spiked everywhere. The thought brought a small smile to his lips, further calming him. Casting a glance outside, he decided that If the weather held up, he'd transform and go for a much-needed stretch.
His stomach growled loudly and Alya snickered.
"Hey," he said defensively. "I had to wait for certain people to show up." He gave them a disapproving smirk.
"Ah, Agreste, Agreste," Alya responded chidingly, batting her eyelashes innocently. "It's okay. Everyone hits their growth spurt at different times."
Nino sputtered in laughter as Adrien glowered at her.
"You take that back!"
It was true that Adrien had been the last in the class to grow taller, probably because of the strict dieting. There was a frustrating time back in junior high when Chloé had even compared him to Gollum from Lord of the Rings because of his emaciated stature.
When Nino had agreed that Chloé had a point, Adrien had sought his father's approval to change his diet, to little avail. The portions of this diet had increased, but he still lacked the subsistence necessary. So, he'd had to resort to eating the carbohydrates that Marinette 'snuck' out of the bakery for him. Adrien was sure that the Dupain-Cheng's had been aware of his plight despite Marinette's insistence that she hadn't told them anything.
"Surely there's a height restriction on models, anyway?" Alya shot back innocently.
"Since when?" Nino scoffed as Adrien said, "Not that I know of."
He regarded Alya curiously. She knew full well that he had quit modeling last year and it dawned on Adrien suddenly that maybe the bizarre question had been purely for Marinette's benefit.
"You know I quit last year," he added, delighted when Marinette, who'd been still throughout the exchange, actually cocked her head slightly in his direction. Alya noticed as well and smirked at Adrien before claiming forgetfulness. Nino heartily expressed his doubt that her reporter brain could forget something like that and Adrien risked a glance at the quiet woman on his left.
She was listening attentively as the couple bantered, hands fidgeting in her lap. Her hair, which was considerably longer than he remembered, was in a loose braid that ended mid-way down her loose light purple shirt. She'd retained her bangs and there were small hoops in her ear lobes instead of the dark studs he remembered. Her face had lost its baby fat but Adrien didn't like the look of how hollow her cheeks looked. She reminded him of the models who claimed that starving themselves was essential for the job, something he'd had to personally overcome.
Was Marinette eating properly?
His musing was somewhat answered when the food arrived and Alya pushed a plain croissant in front of Marinette, who nibbled it gingerly. Adrien and the others dug into their meals and continued chatting around mouthfuls of food.
Flushing as Marinette reached for her glass and took a sip, he reflected on why he'd instantly refilled her glass without even asking. Perhaps it was because through witnessing the silent interaction between her and Alya, he'd reached several conclusions at once. Marinette, who was much more reserved, reminded Adrien of himself from a few years prior, and it was clear that Alya had become what Nino had been for him during that time: an involuntary babysitter.
Empathy for both Marinette and Alya - for being in the formers' shoes and appreciating the role of the latter - had risen within Adrien. His split-second decision had gained an interesting reaction from Marinette, and Adrien wondered for the millionth time what had happened that Marinette could only blink back tears when she looked at him. He was privately hoping that they'd both get some closure as Nino asked Marinette about her life.
"I study... business… part-time," she answered quietly, and Adrien blinked in surprise. Really?
"Where? I study business, too!" His mind whirled as Marinette said the name of the university he attended.
"Université Paris Cité?" He repeated in disbelief. "That's… that's where I study." How had he not seen her around?
Marinette winced, and Adrien realised that she already knew that fact. The hurt intensified as his face fell. Oh.
"You also take commissions on the side," Alya interjected pointedly, fixing Marinette with a frown.
"Oh, yeah," Marinette responded sarcastically. "And the last one was six months ago. Not exactly worth mentioning right now." She returned to the remaining half of her croissant.
For all his media training on uncomfortable situations, Adrien could have cried when she spoke because although she'd unwittingly admitted her prolonged avoidance of him, that was the longest sentence she'd said the entire morning and it had been years since he'd heard her voice. Blinking through the sting behind his eyes, Adrien cleared his throat and turned fully to look at her.
"What was your last commission?" he asked and her head jerked in his direction, blue eyes wide at being directly spoken to. They were thankfully no longer watery but she looked thoroughly startled.
"Um… a corset," she said shortly, and Adrien knew she wasn't going to elaborate the way he'd hoped.
He grinned uncertainly and returned to his breakfast, dropping the subject. Setting aside the cheese danish for Plagg later, he silently resolved to seek Marinette out during the next business lecture on Tuesday. Nino had once advised him that girls played "hard to get", and while Adrien doubted that claim applied to Marinette, he knew he had to suck up his wounded pride if he wanted closure.
A/N I've decided I might do longer chapters, which means I'll have to update every fortnight. Please let me know your thoughts so far! x