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milknette · 4 years

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day 23 - dance

i just want to hold you, and never let you go.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

"WHAT'S the big deal? Just ask Madame Bustier if you can stop by tomorrow, and you can get it then."

It's clear that Alya thinks she's overreacting.

But if anything, Marinette's convinced she's underreacting.

"I need my sketchbook, Alya," she tries to explain, waving her hands in the air. "That has all my sketches for my assignment… (and then some). Maybe I should just go back—"

"Oh, no way. It's already late, and the dance studio's closed already, so it'll be pointless to go all the way back now. Besides," Alya starts, looking at her in slight amusement. "I know you're not panicking because of your art class."

"... what do you mean?"

"Please, Mari," she rolls her eyes. "You can't hide it from me. Whenever I pick you up from class, you're only ever drawing one thing." She pauses for dramatic effect. "Or… one person."

"Ahahahhaha what are you talking about? I'm only there to do my assignment, you know, to draw dancers. I'm not all that picky with who I'm drawing, I'm just there to make sure that my sketches are as realistic and graceful as they can be, and if it just so happens that they're all centralized to one person, it is completely coincidental and means absolutely nothing. Whatsoever. Not. At. All."

Her best friend only shakes her head, a teasing smile glaringly obvious as she drives down the road. "Oh, of course. You having a crush on the guy playing Prince Seigfried for Swan Lake… definitely not. Impossible. Unthinkable. How dare I even suggest that? I'm so sorry for assuming such a thing."

She doesn't look sorry at all.

Alya can feel Marinette's unenthused glare the whole trip back to their apartment.

She laughs.

"Oh come on, you're worrying too much. The chances of your prince finding your thousands of portraits of him are slim to none. So calm down."

Well, maybe she has a point.

But knowing her luck for these things, she doesn't really keep her hopes up.

Marinette arrives at the ballet studio at nine in the morning.

Madame Bustier informs her that she'll have her assistant show up early to open the atelier. She apologizes for being unable to be there herself, but she doesn't really mind.

As long as she gets her sketchbook back.

She sits outside one of the benches, rubbing her hands together carefully to keep warm. It's a few weeks into the winter months, and she found herself wearing too few layers to shield herself from the cold.

A sudden tap on her shoulder.

"Marinette, right? I'm Madame Bustier's assistant."

She freezes. (Haha, funny, because it's cold, right.)

"So, I found your sketchbook…"

She slowly turns around.

The premier male dancer of Bustier's Ballerina Company smiles at her, almost awkwardly. His cheeks are dusted a little red, and she can't decide whether it's from the cold or from the whole situation.

(She hopes, with all her heart, it's the former.)

"You're a super talented artist! I especially liked the sketch where I looked like I was about to kiss someone?"

Actually, freezing to death doesn't sound so bad right now.

He offers to have her come inside the studio.

(Well, it isn't as much an offer as it is a demand; after noticing how cold she is outside, he insists on making her a cup of something to warm her up. He even offers his scarf for her to use.

Marinette's still reeling from the realization that she's talking to her sketches in the flesh.)

"So… what would you like?"

You. A tall, heaping, glass of you.

"I, uh… sorry, what do you have available?"

The ballerina laughs lightly, before sifting through the drawers in the office as he glances over at her. "Well, we have some tea, coffee, hot chocolate…"

They both notice her face light up at the third option.

He's smiling. "So, hot chocolate, then?"

She swallows in a terrible attempt to calm herself down. "Yeah… that'd be nice."

"A sweet tooth, huh?" He muses, evidently amused. "Suits you."

What's that supposed to mean?

Marinette decides not to dwell on it too long, as he places a warm cup in front of her, sitting across the small table.

He decides to initiate conversation.

"I'm sorry for looking through your sketchbook," he starts, apologetic. "I had no idea who owned it, and I originally only planned to look through the pages for your name, but… I couldn't help myself."

"I… it's okay." She pauses, taking a nervous sip of her hot chocolate. "But, uh, what did you think?" Marinette's horrified to notice that she's stuttering. "About my drawings, I mean... "

"Well, I meant what I said earlier. I think you're insanely talented," he smiles. "And I'm flattered, really. I haven't had anyone draw me like that before."

"Nobody's drawn you before?"

"Not as much as you have."

Marinette almost drops her mug, panicking as she tries to stop her face from exploding into a mess of reds and scarlet.

"I, we, uhm, well, I— you're a super hot, I mean handsome, I mean! An extremely talented ballerina… ballerino… uh, what's the word again?"

She's spiralling, she knows it, but he only serves to look entertained.

"Ballerina is good," he says easily. "And it's Adrien."

"I'm sorry?"

"Adrien," he repeats, then points at himself. "My name? In case you didn't know…" he laughs softly. "In your sketchbook, you kept referring to me in your notes as Prince."

Oh, right.

She's never so intensely wished to disappear off the face of the earth!

"That's, uh! Because of your role in Swan Lake! Right! The Prince, so of course I called you that in my sketchbook… totally not because I think you actually look like a real prince or anything, haha, definitely not!"

Adrien's catlike grin only grows. "Of course," he repeats. "... milady."

Marinette almost falls off her chair.

She wants to disappear, just the tiniest bit.

He suddenly walks over to her, the same amused expression on his face.

"So I hope you'll be watching our opening night next weekend?"

"I, uh, I wanted to, but I couldn't get tickets…"

"Well, I actually have a plus one as the lead… and if you're interested, maybe you'd want to come with me?"

"Plus one, so as in, a, uh…"

"It's a front row seat, so you do get the perfect view," Adrien pauses, then winks. Winks. At her. "For your posing references, of course."

"I, uh, right, of course."

What else was she expecting?

"Then we can have dinner together after."

"Wait."

"I'll pick you up?"

"Wait."

"Don't have a carriage fit for a princess, unfortunately, but I will treat you like one."

"... that's a little corny."

"So I'll take that as a yes?"

"... I'd absolutely love to."

#auyeah2020 #mlauyeahaugust2020 #auyeahaugust #auyeah august #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #ml #miraculous ladybug #milk writes #ml fic #ml fanfic #i absolutely love writing fanfics but i am So Ready for this month to be over ;n;#inspiration brain juice be dyin or sth #also never realized so clearly the meaning of quality >>> quantity hhh h

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