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hazellvesque · 1 year

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Some Kind of Miracle - Chapter 10

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: G

Pairing: Adrien/Marinette

Summary: If Marinette had her way, she would have had nothing to do with Alya’s latest celebrity crush. So how did she get roped into stalking him around Los Angeles? When fashion icon Adrien Agreste quite literally crashes into Marinette’s life, they have no choice but to put up with one another or risk ruining both of their potential careers forever.

An AU based on the iconic Disney Channel Original Movie, Starstruck.

Read on Ao3

Chapter 10 - Gravity

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Every time she passed by the glass sliding doors of the hotel room’s balcony, Marinette caught a glimpse of her reflection and flushed. She hadn’t meant to get so dressed up this morning, but by now it was too late to pick another outfit unless she wanted to up her stress levels by trying to coordinate a different combination of colors and accessories. And it was nearly impossible for her to be even more anxious at this point.

Her sundress was perfect for the weather anyhow. It was a simple garment, a pattern she had used and altered half a dozen times because of how versatile it was. She had adorned the pale mint green fabric with white polka dots that grew in size further down the flared skirt, giving it a poofy, almost princess silhouette illusion. The bottom hem fell just above her knees, the straps thick enough to be both cute and practical. It was one of her proudest pieces.

When she’d first packed it, she hadn’t anticipated that this was the occasion she’d be wearing it out to.

The clock read 8:30am. She still had half an hour. But she’d been awake and bouncing on her heels for ages. Finishing her second cup of tea, she paced around the kitchen of their hotel room, unable to calm herself down and not wanting to wake Alya.

As if summoned by the thought alone, Alya walked with her feet dragging out of their bedroom, already wide awake and dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans. Marinette had been deep asleep when Alya and her mom returned from last night’s event, so Marinette hadn’t had a chance to hear Alya gush on and on about all the juicy details.

“Morning,” Marinette said cheerfully as she put her used cup in the sink. If nothing else, she hoped a calm conversation would keep her nerves down. “How was the party?”

“Fine,” Alya said blankly, shoving a breakfast pastry into her mouth.

Huh. Okay. Not quite the answer she’d been expecting.

“Did you meet anyone notable?” Marinette pried, intentionally leaving it vague and giving Alya an excuse to spill all the details. Of course, she already knew the answer to that question, but mindless excited blabber was one of Alya’s favorite pastimes, and it was Marinette’s full-time job as her best friend to indulge her whenever possible.

“Everyone was fine,” Alya shrugged.

Marinette frowned. “Did you have any fun?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” Marinette fought the urge to shake some sense into her best friend. From Adrien’s messages last night, she knew that the two of them had met at the very least. She had almost expected Alya to melt into a puddle of goo in her sleep and never revive to have a chance to recount her experience.

Alya chewed slowly and carefully considered her next sentence. “I signed a big scary legal paper, and I didn’t understand half of the words on it, and I don’t know what I’m allowed to tell you. But I...had fun,” she finished lamely.

Marinette bit back a smile. “Did you at least accomplish your mission? Can we stop stalking that model around now?”

The irony of her own words was not lost on her.

“We can stop looking for Adrien,” Alya said, talking through her mouthful of confections. “And even just saying that might have broken my contract so if he sues me you’d better help bail me out.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Marinette laughed, highly satisfied with that answer, “but I’m glad you had a good time.”

Marinette’s eyes drifted towards the clock again. 8:35. She felt half-tempted to pour a third cup of tea just to give her hands something to be occupied with, but the jitters from the existing caffeine and the nerves were already creeping up on her, so she decided against it.

“So…” she began instead, looking Alya up and down. “You’re up early and already dressed, where are you off to? I thought your mom’s next dinner wasn’t for a couple of days.”

“The, uh, the mall,” Alya said far too quickly. “I wanted to go back and buy that dress I saw in that one shop we passed.”

“Right,” Marinette said slowly, a smile spreading across her lips. “Would you want me to come with you?”

Marinette already knew the answer to that too: “Thanks, but I’ll be fine on my own today.”

Adrien hadn’t been able to hold back on slightly bragging about his master plan. He’d assured Marinette that he’d have everything taken care of. Then he’d told her to meet him at the corner a few blocks from the hotel - the same place he had parked the car that first night - at their agreed upon time.

In just a few short conversations, he had built up an odd trust with her. So she left fate in his hands. And evidently, fate had found a way to distract Alya for the day.

“What about your mom?” Marinette asked.

“With how hard she worked last night, she’ll probably sleep until noon. If she asks, I’ll just tell her we were together, so it’s no biggie.”

If Marinette’s parents knew that the girls had broken their rules about staying together, that would be a different story. Luckily, unless someone failed to keep her mouth shut, Tom and Sabine would never find out she was planning on spending her day with someone who had been a complete stranger less than a week ago.

God, this was so unlike her. And that thought thrilled her.

The clock read 8:45am by the time Alya left the hotel in her cab, promising that she was a professional at the whole taxi/rideshare business by now and not to worry about her. Which left Marinette 15 minutes to make the leisurely stroll down the sun-paved street.

The weather was so perfect it was almost insulting - score another point to California. The slight breeze tousled her hair and skirt in just the right ways. Not that she was hoping anyone would notice, of course.

Rounding the last corner, she spotted him first. He’d dressed himself in a white short-sleeved button down shirt and simple dark-wash jeans. He was leaning against his driver’s side door, and if Marinette didn’t know any better, she could have sworn he was messing with his hair in the side view mirror before he saw her reflection approach.

Adrien whirled around to face her, a lopsided smile on his face, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Good morning Marinette. You’re right on time,” he said.

If you could frame sunshine, it would deeply resemble Adrien’s dopey smile first thing in the morning. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he greeted her, the brightness of the morning bringing out that startling, beautiful green even more. All of that, combined with the way his lean six-foot stature looked in clothes that fit him just right, and Marinette was a goner. At the very least, she thought she’d last a few minutes in his presence before completely succumbing to daydream-land. Evidently not.

She stood a little straighter and took a deep breath. “On time for what, exactly?”

“I am a man of my word. I told you that I would be your tour guide if you ever wanted to see the city. I hope you’re ready for a road trip.” He presented his hands towards his car like a gameshow host showing off a prize.

“Hmm, that’s interesting. Because I don’t remember actually taking you up on that offer,” she teased, biting back laughter as she walked closer to the car.

“Well,” he shrugged and ran a hand through his hair again, a bashful grin on his face, “that’s only because you said you couldn’t get away with it with Alya around. And, oh look, now she’s incredibly busy with Nino all day, which means-”

“You’re ridiculous,” Marinette bit her lip. “Do you go through this much trouble for all of your friends?”

“Only the special ones,” he walked around to open the passenger seat door for her. “Now let’s go, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. If you still want to, of course.”

“I’d love to.” Marinette took a careful step inside, painfully aware of her flowy dress and how she’d have to sit with her ankles together all day.

In the daylight, Marinette noticed all the details of his car’s interior. Her eyes widened, taking in all the things she’d missed that night while she was fighting to stay conscious. It was an electric model, no doubt one of the more expensive ones on the market, and the center console’s massive screen was lit up with the name and artist of the song playing through the speakers. Not to mention, the entire car was spotless and smelled practically new. A massive floral sun hat sat on top of the dashboard.

“To hide your face,” Adrien explained before she had a chance to question his taste in accessories, “just in case.”

Marinette pulled her messy bun further towards the back of her head before fitting the hat over it. The pale straw and floral brim looked a little vintage, like something a posh woman would have worn in the 1950s. Checking her own reflection in the rearview mirror, she pulled a couple of curled wisps of her hair out from under the hat.

While she styled her hair, Adrien rounded the car and positioned himself comfortably in the driver’s seat. He waited until she’d finished checking her reflection before readjusting the mirrors so he could reverse out of the alley.

“It suits you,” Adrien said as he twisted backwards over his shoulder to look where he was going.

“Just be glad I like florals,” she hoped the squeak in her voice wasn’t blatantly obvious. Luckily, if her warm cheeks gave her away, Adrien’s focus was on the road behind them.

What was it about men driving in reverse that was so attractive? The combination of the intense focus and casual posture, maybe? It was somehow a universal constant and a worldwide mystery at the same time. But clearly, that was not the most important question to be asked at the moment.

“So I’m getting a tour of Los Angeles,” Marinette said. A statement rather than a question.

“Well, LA County,” Adrien explained, putting the car in drive and pulling onto the street. “You haven’t really left the city limits yet, have you? We could drive to Hollywood, Malibu, Beverly Hills. Anywhere you want to go, really. I was tempted to drive over to Anaheim and go to Disneyland but we really need a whole day just for that so I figured we’d start small. Anywhere in particular you want to see?”

“To be honest, I don’t know the difference between any of the places you just mentioned. Except Disneyland. There’s one back home, but...” you knew that already, she finished mentally.

“In that case, let’s definitely scratch that off the future itinerary. The castle here is a lot smaller, I’d hate for you to be underwhelmed.”

The destinations didn’t need to be extravagant to excite her. Her nerves were an untamable beast just sitting there in his passenger seat.

It was incredible how quickly her opinion had pulled a complete 180. Had she really been condemning Alya’s fawning just three - or was it four - days ago? Of course, that was before she’d actually met Adrien.

She wouldn’t be happy to admit she’d been wrong, but the smile that refused to wipe from her face would give away her true feelings eventually. She liked spending time with him, plain and simple. And there was a reason his face was plastered across the world. Good looks and a kind personality were a dangerous combination. Especially when the cute, kind boy was giving her an entire day of his attention for reasons still unknown to her.

“You know, it’s funny,” Marinette thought aloud. “I didn’t tell you that Alya was out today, you just miraculously knew.”

“Huh. That is funny,” Adrien played along. “Call it intuition.”

“Not to mention Alya told me she was going to the mall, but you said she was with Nino. I wonder if you had anything to do with that.”

“What do you mean? I’m sure he wanted to show her his mixtape or whatever it is he does to try and impress girls,” he said, and Marinette snickered. “And I totally didn’t ask him to do that so you could have a free day. I would never meddle like that. What do you make me out to be, some kind of troublemaker?”

“You? No, never.”

“Besides, they kind of hit it off at the party last night, at least from what I saw.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed, all jokes aside now. “Are you trying to set them up?”

“It didn’t start out that way, but if they do end up going out, I’ll be happy for them. Nino usually needs me to be his wingman if he ever tries to get out of his shell and actually flirt with someone. He’s not really good with girls.”

“Oh, but you are?” the words slipped from Marinette’s mouth before she had the chance to think about it.

“You tell me,” he kept his eyes on the road, but the smirk on his face made it clear that this was a challenge.

Marinette gulped, pointedly staring out the window. She was never one to back down from a challenge, though. So she answered honestly. “You give off this trustworthy vibe. Warm. Welcoming. Like you wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless you wanted to.”

“I’m told I can be pretty destructive if the mood strikes. My dad’s assistant seems to think so anyway. But anything can be twisted and manipulated to look bad in the public’s eye. So I try my best to just be a good person.”

“Well, it’s working. The being a good person thing,” she clarified.

He let the silence linger between them for a moment. “So that’s a yes?”

His charm worked on this girl, that’s for sure.

“Yes,” Marinette said slowly.

Adrien relaxed further into the driver's seat, flashing Marinette another grin. The mood of the entire day seemed to shift just then - there would be no more doubting his intentions. That was the most shameless flirting she’d ever witnessed, let alone participated in. In every way but the title, this was a date.

Alya was going to kill her when she found out.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Adrien asked, noticeably ignoring the mood he’d just created. “Because there’s this cafe in Santa Monica that claims they have the best crêpes the city has to offer, and none of my other friends can offer an authentic opinion to rival mine.”

“Well, obviously, we have to prove them wrong,” Marinette smiled. “Let’s go.”

A handful of upbeat pop songs and twenty minutes later, a blue slice of ocean and sand appeared over the horizon through the front windshield.

The two of them strolled into the cafe together, Marinette clad in her borrowed hat and Adrien inconspicuous in a pair of dark sunglasses. Up above the cash registers, three massive chalkboard menus with handwritten selections were posted on the walls. Glass cases across the counters were filled to the brim with baked goods.

“Alright,” Adrien lowered his voice playfully, “I need to hear your first impressions. Does this place give off the cute small-business feel that they’re going for, or is it blatantly obvious that they’re trying to be exclusive and trendy to appeal to the pretentious crowd?”

Marinette stifled her laughter with her hand, taking a good look at the pastries in the glass. “Everything is just...covered in sugar and icing. And so expensive.”

Her eyes scanned up and down the menu at the words ‘Coconut de Leche’ and ‘Apple Pear Cinnamon’ and ‘Peanut Butter Banana’ all accompanied with gradually rising price points.

“Nathalie would kill me for eating so much sugar,” Adrien agreed, “which is why I’m dead set on ordering the strawberry nutella flavor. Pick out whatever you want, it’ll be my treat.”

Marinette made a hesitant noise in the back of her throat. “You don’t have to-”

“What kind of all-inclusive tour doesn’t have meals provided? Don’t worry about it, I insist.”

The crêpes she’d typically eat at home were prepared simply with butter and sugar. She could stand in the highly decorated dining area for hours just trying to narrow down the options.

“Strawberries and nutella sounds good…” she mused. “I still doubt any of this stuff is worth the price, though. Two orders would cost as much as a week’s worth of breakfast anywhere else.”

And that snide comment is how Adrien ended up ordering a single plate of strawberry nutella crêpes to share and plucking two forks from the silverware counter before taking his seat across from Marinette at the small table. And as weirdly intimate as the idea seemed, it turned out to be a better choice considering how large the portions were.

“Cheers,” Adrien said, balancing a fork full of whipped cream and chocolate hazelnut spread and absolutely zero nutritional value.

Marinette returned the gesture, taking a bite of her only slightly healthier section.

The overwhelming sweetness coated her tongue and she had to fight not to make a face. Adrien, on the other hand, actually sighed in contentment.

“Oh my god,” he muttered with his mouth half-full at the same time Marinette shrugged and said, “They’re alright, I guess.”

Adrien took another bite and, thankfully, took the time to swallow before speaking again. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re not authentic or good for you in the slightest, but you can’t deny they’re good.”

“You’ve got a sweet tooth, don’t you?”

“Guilty,” he said, flashing her that lopsided smile again.

A swarm of butterflies frantically fluttered in her stomach. “My parents would love to have you around,” she sighed.

“Huh?”

Huh?

“W-what?” she sputtered. “No no no, not like that, I just meant like - around in the bakery. Someone who’s super enthusiastic about all the options. You know, my dad could go on about the benefits of using royal icing over buttercream for ages. And one time he went on a 20 minute rant about how important it is to sift flour before measuring-”

“I get you,” Adrien interrupted. “It’s like when my dad goes on tangents about how empire waists have been out of style since last decade and should have been gone long before then.” He took another bite of strawberry, then smiled softly. “I meant what I said before, by the way. I could absolutely send some of your stuff my dad’s way and let you know what he thinks.”

“And why would you do that for me?” Marinette asked, noting the way he not only ignored her embarrassing musings, but also graciously changed the subject.

Adrien tapped the handle of his fork against his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Aside from the fact that you’re incredibly talented? You could also thank me with free desserts.”

Marinette liked that idea very, very much.

---

There was no chance on earth that Marinette believed Alya’s boldfaced lie this morning.

Then again, there was no chance Marinette would guess where Alya’s rideshare actually dropped her off, either.

Part of her excuse was that she wasn’t sure what she was allowed to talk about. One thing she didn’t necessarily want to tell anyone about, at least not yet, was how Nino Lahiffe had returned to the desserts table as the party wound down, stealing the last mini cupcake and leaving a note in its place for her to find.

Hang at my recording studio tomorrow? Does 9am work for you?

The message was followed by what had to be the address to said studio, along with a phone number. The rational part of Alya’s brain screamed that this was a horror movie scenario waiting to happen. The part of her brain that really enjoyed Nino’s company last night won out though, which is how Alya found herself entering the address he’d given her into a rideshare app.

(She’d learned well enough already that cabs were far overpriced. And unlike Marinette, she’d planned ahead and gotten a service plan for this trip. A blogger was never caught unprepared to post.)

The run-down old studio was on the top floor of what looked to be a once successful production office that had fallen victim to time and budgeting issues. Still, the room was soundproofed, the light and air conditioning still worked, and Nino looked right at home amongst the old equipment.

He’d insisted she meet him here and continue their conversation from the party. Alya agreed, playing it as nonchalantly as possible, as if it were everyday that her celebrity crush’s best friend invited her to hang out one-on-one. No big deal.

Alya drew her fingertip through the dust on a nearby shelf. The white particles floated through the stagnant air, eventually settling on a box of outdated vinyl records.

“It’s not much,” Nino admitted. He stood behind an ancient looking (circa-2005) turntable, sheepishly fiddling with the brim of the red cap that he never seemed to take off.

“It’s…” Alya wracked her brain for the least insulting word, eventually setting on, “vintage. Classic.”

Nino brushed his hands across the dozens of control knobs. “I learned everything I know from these reliable old friends. Well, with the help of some online tutorials.” He lowered the needle onto the board and a low thumping tune drifted through the surround sound speakers.

“So I guess you bring girls up here often?” Alya raised an eyebrow at him,

Nino sputtered and coughed, waving a hand in the air as if blaming the dust. “No, it’s just, uh...I figured you’d see all the touristy stuff on your own so I wanted to take you somewhere more...unique?”

“Are you lying to me, Nino?”

He gulped. “Maybe.”

Alya stepped forward, careful to avoid any delicate looking buttons as she leaned on the turntable, looking Nino in the eye.

“I’m providing Adrien an alibi,” he admitted. “And if anyone asks where he’s been today, he can say he was with me. The keypad on the door logs the building entries.”

“So where is he really?”

“I’m actually not sure.” He thought to himself, it wasn’t technically a lie, since Alya didn’t ask anything about who Adrien was with.

This whole secret-keeping business was a lot more complicated than it seemed. Lots of technicalities.

“Oh,” Alya said, sounding disappointed.

“But I am sure that I would much rather chill with a cool girl like you than sit in my studio alone,” Nino said.

Alya stood a little straighter, only slightly bothered by how nice the sudden compliment was.

“You think I’m cool?”

“Well, that, and you did say you wanted to listen to my remix of that guitarist’s number last night.”

Now it was Alya’s turn to start stammering. “You remembered that? I mean - you already finished it?”

“Of course. I worked on it all night. Didn’t want to disappoint you after that pretentious speech I had about rhythm and vibes.”

Alya couldn’t help but laugh. With that, Nino pressed the play button on his laptop and his natural instincts took over, warping the tune like it was second nature as Alya listened intently.

---

Twenty minutes later, after a fairly satisfying meal which Marinette admittedly could only enjoy a few bites of lest she give herself a stomachache, Adrien insisted they walk off all of the sugar and carbs by strolling down the beach.

Well, actually, he’d suggested renting bikes, but the pair both agreed they were neither properly dressed nor athletic enough to attempt that.

Conversation flowed naturally, which was a relief to Marinette. She’d assumed the two of them might come all this way and get stuck alone for hours only to realize they didn’t have much in common and their tourist-y day would slow to an awkward halt.

Instead, their complete lack of commonalities was exactly what fueled their ongoing discussion. Marinette couldn’t remember how exactly they’d found themselves on their current topic.

“Nope, I don’t believe it,” Adrien insisted. “No one is unphotogenic. The idea of good angles is entirely made up.”

“Says the boy who grew up in front of cameras,” Marinette pointed out.

Adrien shrugged. “So I have a bit of practice, sure, but I’d be nothing without the skill of photographers and lighting experts. They’re the ones who really make or break a good picture. Anyone who claims they’re a natural in front of the camera always has a team behind the lens making sure that claim can’t be proven wrong.”

“Well that isn’t really fair. It’s easy to look good when there’s a team of people helping you.”

“Sometimes you don’t need a team. Sometimes you just need a good hype man to get you feeling confident, and the rest comes naturally,” Adrien reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The device was so familiar to Marinette by now that she had to stifle a badly timed joke about him losing it again. With a quick swipe, he opened the camera and gestured to Marinette. “Go stand at the edge of the water, I’ll prove it.”

Marinette nearly stumbled at the suggestion. “Who, me?”

“Yes, you,” Adrien said playfully. “It’s fun to be on the other side of this sometimes.”

Marinette took a few hesitant steps towards the water, her sandaled feet sinking into the sand and making her feel just slightly off balance. Feeling bold, she kicked off her shoes. Behind her, she could hear Adrien’s encouraging voice coaxing her to get closer so that the water lapped up just above her ankles. But her eyes were trained on the horizon. The expanse of sea water stretched on so endlessly it was almost hard to believe it was real and that she’d just flown over it, albeit on the other coast. The reflection of the sunlight on the waves in the distance nearly blinded her.

“Is the sun always so bright here?” she asked as stars danced in her vision.

“I guess so,” Adrien shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. Look this way for me?”

Marinette did as she was told, shyly glancing over her shoulder, glad to turn away from the brightness.

“The camera already loves you, you just have to act like it,” Adrien smiled his brilliant smile at her, which she returned earnestly.

Alya had dragged her into countless selfies in the past, but aside from a few token solo shots during holiday photos with her family, she couldn’t remember the last time someone took a picture just of her.

Meanwhile, Adrien was adjusting his stance, apparently determined to get a specific angle. “Now remember,” he called, “the outfit just accentuates the person wearing it. You own that dress, the dress doesn’t own you.”

“I’d hope so, considering I made it,” Marinette joked back.

Adrien lowered his phone slightly, his smile widening and sending all sorts of tingling feelings down Marinette’s spine. “I had a feeling, since it fits so perfectly. But remember, you’re the main attraction here.”

“Is this what your photographers say to you during photoshoots?”

Adrien snapped one last picture, then shrugged. “I know, it’s kind of ridiculous, but strangely enough it works sometimes. Here, look at this.”

He gestured for Marinette to come take a look. She quickly bent down and retrieved her shoes before falling back into a comfortable stride at his side. She hadn’t even really posed for the photos, and yet somehow, they’d turned out decent. There were a few in-motion shots of her walking towards the water, and a fun one of her shoe slipping off her foot that made her think of a certain glass-slippered princess.

One in particular, he had captured just as she turned around to sass him about her dress. Her mouth was open mid-sentence, but her genuine smile as she spoke looked more like one of those fake-candids that you’d see in catalogs.

“I’m impressed,” she admitted. “Though I still don’t know if I’ll ever be really comfortable getting my photo taken.”

“Most people aren’t. I used to do this for Chloe all the time, and then she got a little too comfortable, so I guess I have to take the blame for that.”

Adrien laughed almost to himself, like he had just remembered an inside joke. It was so oddly fond that it sparked another question in Marinette’s mind, one she almost felt embarrassed to ask, but the curiosity would kill her if she didn’t speak up.

“So you and Chloe are pretty close, huh?” she tried to come off casual. Not that she cared if there was something more between them, of course.

At that, Adrien laughed a little louder. “You could say that. Chloe and I have been friends since we were in diapers. My dad and her mom are ‘old college buddies’,” he emphasized the phrase with air quotes, “which I’m convinced is code for they used to date and refuse to admit it.”

“So if things worked out differently, you two could have been siblings,” the thought left her mouth before her brain could tell her to shut up.

Adrien made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between disgust and amusement. “I try not to think about it, considering Chloe was practically in love with me when we were kids. I think she’s gotten over it by now, though. Besides, I could not deal with having Audrey Bourgeois as a mother.”

Marinette held in a sigh of relief - then internally chastised herself for feeling relieved - before continuing. “Is she really that bad?”

“Let’s just say I’m better off only having to deal with my dad and Nathalie.”

Marinette bit back her next question. By now, it wasn’t a coincidence that Adrien was skirting around any mention of his mother. Perhaps she wasn’t in the picture anymore, and the last thing Marinette wanted to do was dig up old buried conflicts. But her curiosity lingered regardless.

Adrien was still smiling at his phone. “Marinette, what’s your phone number?”

Well that snapped her out of her train of thought fairly quickly. “I already told you, I don’t-”

“I know,” Adrien reassured her. “No service right now. But in case you ever delete the messenger app I still have a way to send these photos to you.”

Marinette looked him up and down, skeptical.

“And to be honest,” Adrien continued, “I’ve never properly asked for a girl’s number before and I wanted to maybe try and succeed this time? Plus, you already have mine, and once you leave I can’t call up to your hotel room and I’d hate for us to stop talking once you get back home.”

Were her eyes deceiving her, or was he blushing? Her face was likely equally red, but she found her words eventually.

“You’ve really never asked a girl for her number?” she asked, taking Adrien’s phone and entering her number in his contacts. She quickly set the Cinderella photo as her contact image for good measure.

“Well I don’t date much, so no.”

Marinette froze in her tracks.

“Is that what this is?” she asked, her voice shallow.

“Hm?” he smiled, taking his phone back.

“A date,” Marinette said, hoping she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. And as awkward as it was, her brain felt the need to clarify. It was one thing to shamelessly flirt back and forth and another to confirm it in words. “Are we on a date...right now?”

“Well let’s see,” Adrien counted on his fingertips. “I picked you up at your place-”

“Down the street, technically.”

“I insisted that I treat you to a nice meal-”

“Which was mostly sugar.”

“And we took a nice seaside stroll-”

“Still in progress, final opinions are still to follow.”

Marinette feared she had gone too far with the teasing, but Adrien was beaming at her, which only made her flush brighter red.

“Okay, well, what else do we need to do to qualify this as a proper date?” he asked.

Considering her own history of almost-relationships and failed crushes, Marinette wasn’t even sure herself. Though one specific thing associated with first dates came to mind that raised her body temperature significantly. Did she want to kiss him? Evidently, her traitorous eyes answered for her, glancing down at Adrien’s lips for a moment too long. Thankfully when she caught his eye, he hadn’t seemed to notice.

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” she played it off. “What else did you have in mind for the day, tour guide?”

“Let’s see where the day takes us, shall we?” Adrien reached out and offered his hand. With a shy smile, Marinette wrapped her fingers around him, marveling at how much bigger his hand was than hers.

Gently tugging her along, he led them up towards the crowds of Santa Monica pier.

---

Chloe Bourgeois didn’t think it was much to ask for at least one of Audrey’s assistants to answer the phone. Especially after she’d flown across an entire ocean to meet her mother halfway.

But she’d been calling at least six times a day with no reply.

Adrien and Nino had let her have her space, seeing how upset she was after phone call number fourteen. She spent the morning pacing around the Agreste house, feeling like an unwelcome guest both in the house and in her mother’s mind.

As much as she tried to hide her disappointment with parties and photos and stories about how much fun she was having, deep down, it was exhausting endlessly wishing for an outcome she knew would never happen.

“Chloe?”

Nathalie knocked politely on the doorframe despite the door to the lounge being open, and upon spotting Chloe, she gave one of her signature frowns. It was a look that held many meanings - usually disapproval at something Adrien said or did, often frustration about Gabriel’s approach at running his business. But this frown said even more. Nathalie had worked closely with Audrey and the Bourgeois family almost as long as she had been with the Agrestes. Audrey’s absence was to be expected, but that didn’t mean Nathalie was heartless. She understood completely how Chloe felt.

“Would you like me to order you lunch?”

“No, that’s okay,” Chloe sank further into the pillows of the loveseat, still adamantly holding onto her phone and hoping it would ring.

Nathalie lingered for another moment. “Well if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

She appreciated the offer. But right now, if Chloe couldn’t see her mother, she just wanted to be alone.

---

Five songs later, Nino was running out of ideas. He hadn’t made any plans past the initial remix or two, and Adrien had advised him that conversation would flow naturally.

Easy for him to say.

Alya peered up at him over the top rim of her glasses, her stare intent and just a bit off putting.

“Sorry if this is super boring, if you wanted to get food or something we could-”

“No, it's not that,” she said, “I actually had a question for you, but I didn’t know if it would be weird to ask.”

If it were any weirder than him inviting her to his studio seemingly unprompted, he’d be surprised.

Still, “Can I interview you for my blog?” was not what he expected her to say.

“What’s your blog about?” he asked. If the answer wasn’t amateur DJ-ing he wasn’t sure what help his knowledge would be.

“Well, it’s more of a fansite,” she hesitated, then muttered, “aboutadrienagreste.”

“Sorry, what was that last part?”

Alya sighed. “Okay, so I kind of have a blog about your best friend. Is that weird? It’s weird, isn’t it? I should have deleted it a long time ago and it’s not even really as popular as it used to be ever since I started doing my write-ups instead of posting pictures-”

“Hey, slow down,” he went to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder but stopped halfway through the motion, leaving them at an awkward hover hand standstill. “I don’t think it’s weird, I’m very used to Adrien having fans. Plus, we’ve all got our hobbies that we’re a little embarrassed about,” he gestured around the room.

Alya chewed her lip nervously.

“What are your write-ups about?”

“It’s just something new I’ve been trying. Talking about celebrity culture and stuff. You know, the laws around paparazzi and privacy, how famous people usually have secret social media for family and close friends, the ethics of childhood stardom. Stuff like that.” She didn’t give Nino a moment to react before prattling on. “I’ve only posted a few and they aren’t doing well. People just see my blog as a place to find out about Adrien, so I aim to please, but I want to do more than that. Like giving more genuine, thoughtful posts. But those lose followers, so I’m stuck doing something that’s not really that fun anymore just because it’s been my hobby for so long and I don’t know how to branch out.”

Nino stared. Alya stared back. Silence stretched across the room.

Then, Alya cringed and looked away. “That was a lot, sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s amazing Alya, how can you think that’s weird? See, if I had a blog about Adrien while also being his best friend, that would be kind of weird,” Nino laughed. “But what you’re doing isn’t just blogging, it's journalism. And I’d love to be interviewed by you. Only problem is, I kind of don’t know how any of this works.”

Of all the things he’d said, that last part was the most surprising to Alya. “You’ve never been interviewed before?”

“Nope,” he laughed. “Maybe I should go blonde and constantly wear sunglasses indoors, that’ll get some attention.”

“I’m serious.”

“I am too. Nobody really knows who I am.”

“I do!” Alya said a bit too loudly. “...and there I go, being weird again.”

Nino paused. “So when I found you at the club and helped you back to your hotel?”

“Oh, I totally pretended not to know your name,” she admitted. By some kind of miracle, Nino didn’t get upset at all. In fact, he was still smiling at her.

“And here I was trying to make a good first impression with a cute girl, turns out she’s already aware of how much of a loser I am.”

Though she blushed at the ‘cute’ comment, she ignored it. Instead, she filed it away in her brain for later: cute boy also thinks I’m cute.

“Not true,” she said. “All I really knew was your name and your face. Which is hard to forget considering you wear the same thing every day.”

“It’s a statement,” he teased, playing with his hat again.

“And in any case, I don’t interview losers,” Alya said, opening the recording app on her phone. “So let’s start with the basics…”

---

Marinette and Adrien found themselves winding through crowds, attractions, and shops on the pier. And they were still holding hands. Which Marinette was trying her best not to spontaneously combust over.

If Adrien had any concern about being recognized by the large groups of people, he didn’t show it. Rather, he walked confidently with his head held high. The less he tried to hide, Marinette realized, the more he blended right in.

There were just as many interesting stores and attractions as there were peddlers and tacky merchandise designed to pressure tourists into dropping every cent. From fidget toys to phone accessories and everything in between. One particular stand, however, caught Marinette’s attention.

An older man went almost entirely unnoticed by the crowd as he tried to sell flowers. As they passed by, the man working the stall gestured insistently, practically shoving the individually wrapped floral stems at pedestrians who pointedly moved past, avoiding eye contact.

“Only five dollars!” the man hawked. “A beautiful rose for a beautiful lady!”

Mariette was fully prepared to try and blend in with the rest of the crowd and move on, but she felt a tug at her elbow. As she whirled around, she found herself face-to-face with Adrien with his head bowed slightly, a playful look in his eye, and a single red rose in his hand presented out to her.

“For you, my lady,” he said playfully, jutting his head at the seller. “The man insists.”

Marinette felt her jaw fall slack, not knowing whether she should thank him or laugh. To be fair, the whole gesture felt just a little over the top. So she settled on asking: “Are you really going to pay for that?”

Adrien laughed with her, straightening back up and wordlessly handing the man a bill from his pocket as they moved on.

“It’s no big deal,” he said, still insistently holding the flower out towards her. “You said you liked florals right? Just the pattern, or real flowers too?”

“I think roses are a little overrated,” she admitted, taking the delicate flower in her hands. “Beautiful, of course, but there are so many other flowers that deserve recognition. Like lilies. Or daisies. Or daffodils. And -” she clamped her mouth shut as Adrien shot her another lopsided smile. “What?”

“I’ve just...never known anyone to have such strong opinions on flower popularity,” Adrien said. “I’m impressed you remember the English words for so many of them. I still forget more uncommon words sometimes, especially considering it’s not everyday you sit around and chat about floral arrangements.”

“Well, thank you,” she felt an odd surge of pride. “I suppose I could have just been speaking French with you this whole time.”

“By all means, speak whatever you’re most comfortable with,” he insisted. “But I like hearing you speak English. Your accent is cute.”

Marinette charged on in her second tongue, pointedly trying to ignore how hot her face was. “I’m still so surprised that you got rid of yours entirely.”

“Not entirely. I let it slip when I’m negotiating sometimes. People find it charming.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” she replied, but he wasn’t listening.

He was staring at something straight ahead. A tall something, with neon lights illuminating its metal frame. The blue and purple glow reflected off his mischievous green eyes, while Marinette’s stomach plummeted. There was a lot that Adrien’s charming smile could convince her to do in this moment, but getting on a ferris wheel was where she drew the line. She clutched the rose in her hand hard enough to prick her finger on a thorn, and her sharp intake of breath finally caught Adrien’s attention.

Without hesitation, he reached down and took her hand, surveying the damage. “Damn it,” he muttered. “I should have checked for thorns before I gave it to you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she shrugged. “It’s not a big deal-”

He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of it, quickly snuffing out any other words her brain was attempting to conjure up.

A sea of hundreds of people rushed by, but in that moment, Adrien was the only thing in crystal-clear focus. And his eyes refused to stray from hers, looking intently as she slowly melted under his gaze.

“I didn’t mean to make you nervous,” he said playfully, his hushed tone only making her lose focus even more.

For a boy who supposedly didn’t date much, Adrien knew exactly what he was doing. And Marinette found herself caught in his web, with no intention of trying to escape.

“We don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to. We can look at the other shops, or go find someplace for dinner, or…” he took a step closer, his eyes shifting down to her lips, “...whatever you’d like to do.”

If she stood on her tiptoes, it would take only the tiniest effort to close the distance between them. The idea was so tempting that she found herself rising to meet his level almost involuntarily.

Out of the corner of her eye, just over Adrien’s shoulder, Marinette saw a girl staring directly at them, the look on her face unmistakable. The phone in her hand, pointed directly at them, spelled even more trouble.

Marinette ducked quickly, hiding her face under the brim of her hat, cursing the girl and her camera and the fact that she was so close to-

“What’s wrong?” Adrien instinctively hid his face, looking anywhere but in the direction Marinette was facing. Was he really so accustomed to this that his first instinct was to hide from anything and everything?

“Cameras,” Marinette mumbled, and Adrien immediately sprang into action. His hand pressed against her lower back, guiding her further up the pier back towards the denser cluster of buildings. She cursed herself for how her heart fluttered in her chest at his touch. This was not the time to be thinking about that.

Marinette’s shorter legs struggled to keep pace with Adrien’s, but he kept her close by, moving his hand from her back to her arm and rushing her along, still careful not to lose her in the crowd. He spoke hushed and urgent. “Did they see anything?”

“I don’t think so,” Marinette replied. “I think I was quick enough. I don’t get how anyone can recognize you when there’s so many people out here.”

“You’d be surprised,” his voice took on a harsh edge. “I really can’t have a single day of peace, huh?”

He pulled on her arm, dragging her close behind as he ducked into an alleyway. Allowing Marinette a moment to catch her breath, he glanced around to check for prying eyes. After a full minute of no interruptions, he allowed the tension to release from his shoulders.

“I think the coast is clear,” Adrien sighed. “I’m so sorry about this, but we’re probably going to have to call it a night. I’ve got to do damage control in case someone got pictures. Here, I can call a private car to get us back to where I parked, then I can take you home. Plus, I can get dinner sent to your room as an apology. Let me make a few calls and I can-”

“Adrien,” Marinette interrupted. “Isn’t this a bit….much?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate how kind you’ve been. But this is all just so elaborate and extreme. It seems kind of...unreal.”

“Oh, it is,” he laughed humorlessly. His eyes widened with the realization of how that sounded. “Not that I haven’t had a great time. But we could have had just as much fun without…all of this. It’s just what I’ve come to expect out of my life, always doing the most with everything just because I can. Or because I’m encouraged to, really.”

Marinette frowned slightly. “Don’t you get bored of it?”

“Every day,” he answered, a small smile sneaking its way onto his face. “But today I got to share it with someone new.”

“Well, you’ve been incredibly generous,” she said, her voice gaining a new confident edge. “Now it’s my turn. Can I share something with you?”

Reaching into her bag - fumbling through the dark and trying her hardest not to knock her elbows into anything or anyone - she slipped a folded piece of paper from her bag. She’d felt a bit silly carrying it around all day, but a moment like this wasn’t going to present itself again. Today was about taking risks, in more ways than one. So she slipped the paper into Adrien’s hand, only hesitating slightly before letting it go. Her eyes couldn’t decide whether to watch as he opened it or to avoid looking in his direction altogether, so she settled on glancing away toward the street, pretending to be on the lookout for anyone who may have followed them here.

“Is this…?” Adrien’s eyes widened.

“They were just a few ideas I had-” Marinette said quickly. “I mean, you did offer to show your dad some of my sketches, and if this isn’t his style I have a few more examples, but I know you saw this one and liked it so… yeah.”

She held her breath as his eyes scanned over the page from her sketchbook. She’d torn it out this morning and carefully folded it into a perfect square, waiting for the perfect moment. Just the thought of Gabriel Agreste seeing her art made her nauseous, but after the day she’d just spent with Adrien, her confidence had risen to a new extreme. Nothing any man could say would bring her down from the joy she’d already experienced. And if he ended up liking her designs, it’d just be the cherry on top.

“He’s going to love it,” Adrien breathed. “I promise. Thank you for trusting me with this.”

The thought occurred to her suddenly, that she was trusting him with more than just her passion. She was also beginning to trust him with her heart. And to her surprise, she wasn’t afraid of either of those things. She gave him a small smile, hoping she was adequately hiding the way her entire body felt alight.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d call this a pretty successful date, despite the unfortunate ending,” Adrien teased. He refolded Marinette’s sketch and slipped it into his pocket before taking her hand into his. “Here, let’s get you back home.”

- - -

Before they knew it, hours had passed, and Alya and Nino had moved far beyond the basics. The impromptu interview was clunky at first - Alya didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but the greedy fangirl in the back of her mind wanted to know everything. The proper friend at the forefront of her mind, however, wanted to respect Adrien’s privacy, and hew newfound fondness for her favorite celebrity’s reclusive best friend reframed her entire approach to the situation.

In the end, she ended up asking Nino a lot more questions about himself than she was expecting to. So naturally, the interview quickly melted into a conversation between new friends, so much so that Alya had sneakily reached down and stopped recording. She told her blog a lot, but not everything.

Nino wanted to be a music producer when he got older. He had a younger brother. He refused to wear Gabriel brand clothing because of a bet he and Adrien made as children. He was actually fairly fond of Chloe Bourgeois, and Chloe herself actually had a fair share of redeeming qualities if you got to know her, but that's another story for another time - this interview was about Adrien, after all. Wasn’t it?

At this point, Alya wasn’t sure which boy she was more curious about anymore.

The next question was rudely interrupted by Nino’s phone ringing. An old photo of Nino and Adrien, probably around middle-school age, popped up on his lockscreen. Nino answered the call right away, putting the phone on speaker.

“How’s it going, dude?”

“Really well,” Adrien sounded positively elated. “Thanks for the cover up today. I’ll be heading back to the house soon, can we meet up in half an hour?”

Nino hesitated, glancing up at Alya. It struck him suddenly that he wasn’t ready for this rendezvous to be over. And judging from the look on her face, neither did she.

Go, Alya mouthed at him with a reassuring nod.

“Yeah, I’m finishing up at the studio now,” Nino said aloud. “I’ll meet you there.”

“You’re a lifesaver, dude.”

“I know,” Nino ended the call with a small sigh.

Alya tilted her head at him. “You are a good friend, you know that, right?”

Nino said nothing in response, choosing instead to answer with a half-hearted shrug.

“Besides,” Alya continued. “It’s been a long day, and I’ve got to write down this interview to draft up a post soon, so I should get going anyway.”

A subtle, suggestive look passed between them. Over the past twenty-four hours, they’d already learned far more about one another than they had ever planned, and there were already multiple calendar events marked down where they’d surely be running into each other again. They were far past the need of exchanging pleasantries and polite hints - this was an odd, unexpected little bond that would continue to grow if they let it.

Alya quickly pulled up her rideshare app and scheduled her trip back to the hotel before heading towards the door of the studio. Just as Nino opened his mouth to say something - a goodbye or a thank you or a question of continuing their conversation - Alya stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me what Adrien was up to, I trust you’re covering for him for a good reason. Feel free to use me as a fake alibi whenever you need to,” she smirked, then walked out the front entrance.

- - -

Even after the mishap on the pier, Adrien insisted on walking Marinette to the door.

“What kind of gentleman would leave his lady to walk home on her own?”

“Oh, I’m a lady now?” Marinette teased as they rounded the corner, the glittering doors of the hotel coming into view. “How formal.”

Adrien laughed. “Hopefully next time we’ll be able to end things on a more positive note. That is, if you’re willing to give me another chance.”

As embarrassing as it was to admit even to herself, she’d been thinking about what next time might entail ever since they got back to the car. Nothing about this trip had been going to plan, and she was starting to relish in the chaos and spontaneity of it all. Being with Adrien introduced her to a new kind of excitement - a rush that consumed every part of her brain until she couldn’t think straight anymore. All she wanted was another unplanned adventure. And maybe, just maybe, to kiss the cute boy who she’d grown so fondly of. And as they slowed to a halt at the front door of the hotel, she thought it may just be worth it to try once more before the night was over. It would be one sure-fire way of assuring him that she definitely wanted to give him another chance.

A car horn blaring at the nearby intersection promptly distracted her from that thought, making her flinch while Adrien looked around nervously. Still on edge, clearly.

“Maybe a nice private dinner somewhere, next time?” Adrien suggested.

Marinette smiled. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Bonne nuit, Marinette,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her cheek softly. “À bientôt.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Any coherent words, English or French, vanished entirely from her vocabulary. With that, he turned away from her and walked off into the night.

Thankfully, this time, she hadn’t lost her key. By the time she trudged her way through the halls of the hotel and back to her room, her mind was racing. And she didn’t have anywhere to put all of the emotions she was feeling, she couldn’t even tell her best friend-

Who was sitting at the kitchen island waiting up for her the moment she opened the door.

“Alya!” Marinette squeaked, then cringed at her own guilty pitch change. “How was the mall?”

“Good,” Alya answered stiffly. “I uh… got the dress I was looking for. Where were you?”

“On a walk,” Marinette answered equally as stiffly. “Thought some fresh air would help with my headache.”

Alya was lying to her. But she was lying to Alya too. And a nagging thought in the back of her mind told her that both of them were equally aware of the other’s deception. And yet, neither of them were brave enough to break the facade, either.

“Do you think my mom will feel up for ordering takeout tonight?” Alya quickly changed the subject. “I’m starving.”

Marinette nodded, trying not to think of strawberries and hazelnuts, of private dinners and kind green eyes.

“Me too.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #adrienette #some kind of miracle #my writing #me? taking two and half years to update my fic? it's more likely than you think #here's almost 10k in fluff as an apology for me being The Worst

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