#myladywrites

“Or, he’ll hate my gift, realize that knowing me is a complete and total mistake, and never ever want to see me again!”

“You know that will happen.”

“It could! You don’t know that!”

“This is Luka we’re talking about, right? Nicest guy in the world? Wouldn’t hurt a fly? Totally head over heels in love with you?”

“You don’t know what either.”

“Don’t know he’s the nicest guy in the world? I think I do.”

“You don’t know that he’s in love with me!”

“Uhm, yea I do. The whole class knows it. The neighbours know it. All of Paris knows it. He’s even told you how much he likes you.”

“But that’s not the same. This is a confession we’re talking about here. This is a huge deal. I can’t mess this up.”

“Like you would have even done it in the next century if you hadn’t drawn his name.”

“If you hadn’t given me his name!” she retorted pointedly.

“Well, you might as well get planning,” Alya shrugged. “What are you going to get him?”

~

After a week of arduous planning and embroidering, Marinette held up her handiwork to present to Alya, Juleka, Rose, Alix, and Mylene as a final check. The girls sat in awe and approval at the sight of it.

“It’s beautiful, Marinette!” Rose bubbled, hands at her cheeks.

“He’s going to love it,” Juleka agreed.

“Now that we’ve got that all sorted,” said Alya, “what are you going to wear?” Marinette immediately stood and ran for her hangers, more than ready for this line of questioning.

~

It was agreed that they would unceremoniously reveal themselves to their Secret Santa recipients. Since Alya was the one to arrange the whole event, party aside, it was easily in her power to make that particular decision. This, of course, paired very well with Marinette’s intent to have a rather private discussion with her Secret Santa recipient. This all only left one problem: Marinette’s willingness and strength to approach Luka herself, without the pressure of all her peers’ expectations. Worse yet, if she didn’t approach him, he would be left as the only person at the party without a gift, and she would never forgive herself for leaving him that way. And even if she somehow managed to avoid facing him with her gift, and other things, on her own, he was sure to find her himself, having drawn her name as his giftee. It was all a mess and a small part of her (that somehow managed to take over her entire body) didn’t want to attend the party. But with a friend like Alya, how could anyone say no.

Chloe Bourgeois always held the most lavish parties. Even into their university years, she never ceased to impress, inviting anyone and everyone she knew, and even some she didn’t know. This made convincing everyone to exchange their gifts personally much easier. The dress code was nearly non-existent. People came in suits and gowns, contrasting those in khakis and crop tops. Marinette personally enjoyed her sweet, pink, semiformal dress. From across the way, Marinette spotted Luka. He was wearing a dress shirt and tie underneath his usual blue hoodie. Although it was not a style she would have put together herself, she found it ridiculously charming nonetheless. He made the effort, and something about that thought made her smile uncontrollably.

It almost melted her heart to see the smile immediately form on his face just at the sight of her. She wasn’t the only one.

“Hey Marinette,” Luka greeted when she approached his corner of the room.

“Hello,” she said, unabashed by the happiness in her tone. There was a nearly unnoticeable moment of silence, had neither of them been thinking about what to say and how to say it.

“Have you given your gift to your Secret Santa person yet?” Luka asked.

“Not yet.” Marinette shrugged.

“Neither have I. Who’d you get?” he prompted. Without another word, Marinette took the carefully wrapped present from behind her back and offered it to him. He blinked confusedly for a few moments before smiling and accepting. “Wow Marinette, you had my name? That’s amazing! I had your name!” Luka produced a small package from his pocket. Alya had mentioned that Luka had her name, but the sight of the small box still produced a gasp from her lips.

“You should open yours first,” she insisted. He tore into the wrapping of the gift and pulled the cloth from the remains.

The guitar strap was a deep blue and black, with tiny pink flowers embroidered into the swirling design. The contrast provided a cute and cool look to the overall design, but secretly, Marinette had made it with the idea of their styles combining into a single image. Not that she would ever be the one to point it out.

“So… what do you think?” she asked when he didn’t say anything. When she finally had the courage to look at his face, she noticed his eyes tracing the designs of the strap, his mouth slightly agape and his face flushed. Her brain searched for the meaning behind such a face.

“What do I think?” he repeated, like he was shocked that she could ask him a question with such an obvious answer. “It’s amazing, Marinette.”

“I’m so glad you like it. I wasn’t sure-”

“Open yours,” he interrupted. It was rare for him to ask her of much, so her curiosity spiked at the request. Tearing apart the wrapping, she was met with a plain velvet box. Inside was a small, pastel, pink, rose pendent on a silver chain.

“Luka!” Marinette gasped. “It’s beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it!”

“May I?” Luka held his hand out, asking for the necklace. She nodded and turned around, pushing aside her hair so he would have access to the back of her neck. He draped the necklace around the front of her neck and secured the clasp.  

“It looks even nicer on you than it did in the box. It suits you,” said Luka.

“Thank you,” she replied, blushing and staring at the floor. A smile crossed her face and she gently touched the pendent, feeling all the intricate details of the design. “Hey Luka?” Marinette started. He looked down and smiled at her.

“Yes?”

“I have something I need to tell you.” She bit her lip and shifted her gaze nervously.

“What is it?”

“I… I really like you.” The words practically flew from her mouth as she rushed to get them out lest she change her mind.

“I like you too Marinette,” Luka replied, not missing a beat. The grin on his face was unparalleled. If Marinette had the courage and forethought to look for his reaction, she might have caught it.

“No, not like that!” she rambled, looking everywhere but at him. “I mean. I do like you. As a friend; but also as more.”

“More?” he asked, amused.  

“You mean so much to be Luka. And you’ve always been so kind and caring, and I can’t believe I couldn’t see it before.” Taking a deep breath, she mustered the courage to look him in the eyes before uttering the following words. “There is no one as sweet as you, or who makes me feel as comfortable and happy as you do.” She needed him to understand her seriousness and sincerity. “What I mean to say is that, I love you.” Luka pursed his lips through his smile and reached out to hold her hands, draping his gift over his shoulder.

“Marinette, thank you. That means so much to me. Thank you. I love you too.” Her head snapped up in shock at the statement.

“Really?” she asked, disbelieving. He laughed briefly.

“Of course. I haven’t been trying very hard to hide it either. Marinette, I care so much about you and I want you to be your happiest always.”

“I… I’m sorry, I had no idea,” she said. A giggle escaped her lips shortly after. “How could I have not noticed?”

“Well, it is more difficult to tell when you’re involved.”

“Everyone’s been telling me for ages that you liked me, and I just couldn’t believe it.” Luka’s hand rose to cup the side of her cheek and she rested her head into it.

“Believe it or not, it’s true,” he reassured her. “I really like you.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

“Just good?” Marinette’s brought her own hand up to her face to rest on top of his.

“That’s really good,” she grinned.

“Alright Marinette, your turn. Truth, or Dare?” Alya asked, a clear glint in her eye. Marinette’s gaze flickered frantically to Adrien. She had to think about this carefully. If she chose Truth, Alya would definitely ask if she had a crush on Adrien, and everything would be over! Then again, Alya could just as easily dare her to confess to her crush, though the idea felt too simple for Alya. Marinette knew what would happen if she chose Truth, which meant she had to test her luck and choose Dare. It was the only logical option. The grin that stretched across her best friend’s cheeks begged to differ. “I dare you, to kiss Adrien.” The class was a flutter. No one had any objections to the idea (or at the very least, nobody present).

“What?” The speed and intensity at with Marinette blushed could have been recorded for record books. Alya grinned and shrugged.

“You picked Dare, so you gotta do it! If you don’t, you’ll have to answer Truth.” At this point, Marinette wasn’t sure which was the better alternative. It was better than actually telling him she liked him. And they were French! A kiss didn’t have to mean anything really. They kissed as a greeting all the time. At least, with most people. She had never kissed Adrien in greeting before.

She would just have to suck it up and get it over with. Besides, it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to kiss Adrien. But it was too embarrassing! And what if he didn’t want to.

“Only if Adrien is okay with it,” she declared, half hoping he would deny her, but knowing she would be devastated if he did.

“I don’t mind.” Adrien smiled, as accommodating as ever. Honestly, he just looked happy to be there.

“Awesome!” Alya decided, clapping her hands together. “You two should get closer together. I don’t know how you’re going to give him a kiss when you’re sitting on the other side of the room!”

They sat in front of each other in the middle of the group for a while as Marinette built up the courage. Even Adrien could tell she was nervous about it. He considered stopping the whole game and pointing out how uncomfortable a dare it was, but he didn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun or embarrass Marinette anymore than she already looked. Maybe he should instead say something; something to ease her nerves and make her feel less awkward about having to complete this dare. What would Chat Noir say? Marinette seemed much more comfortable with his cat persona than when Adrien. The longer he thought about it, the longer this moment dragged on for both of them. He would just have to trust his instincts and --

“So, are you going to kiss me, or just keep staring at my face.” When a wink followed his smooth voice, he knew he had let a little too much Chat Noir out. Marinette’s face immediately flushed a bright red so intense, the clas was sure she was going to break out into a fever, and her eyes almost bulged from their sockets. Adrien might have noticed that aside from being a bit strange, she was rather cute. He might have noticed that, certainly, if he had not been completely freaking out in his own mind. He absolutely couldn’t believe he had said that. As soon as the words had even left his lips, he knew he would regret them. Marinette wasn’t like that. He was not usually like that. Nobody in his life had ever seen him as the flirty Chat Noir he knew he enjoyed being. So, what ungodly presence had possessed him to utter such words. He knew he wanted to be more like Chat Noir, but that was beyond discomforting.

Having completely lost her nerve, mind, and senses, Marinette couldn’t handle it anymore, and nearly jumped him in her attempt to end the torture. By nearly jumped, it should be said that she pushed him over in her excitement and pressed her face forcefully into his. It should also be said that her brain ceased functioning the moment her lips touched his, and she could do nothing to bring herself to move once she landed. Alarms sounded in her mind and the system overheated before completely shutting down, and Marinette rolled off to the side, curled up into a ball, and died a little.

After many an minute of recovery, Marinette grabbed hold of Alya’s shirt.

“Alya that was too far!” Marinette complained, her face still red. Alya shrugged nonchalantly.

“I am your girlfriend,” she pointed out. Adrien stopped to squint suspiciously at her, as if he could barely make out her features when he was 3 inches from her face.

“No, no. My girlfriend is Marinette,” he decided. Ladybug rolled her eyes, and before he could fight against her carrying him again, she threw her yoyo and propelled them both from the floor. He held on tighter than usual, apparently frightened by the height that did not typically bother him. “I used to love you a lot Ladybug.” She almost forgot to throw her yoyo, getting a little too close to the ground than she was comfortable.

“Really?” Ladybug stuttered when she regained her composure. She couldn’t look at him, because if she did, she was sure to kiss him, and he really needed to get home.

“I used to love you so much, and you never flirted with me, and I told you you’re beautiful.” She could fee his gaze on her, and it made her cheeks flush at the thought.

“Right,” she replied curtly.

“You’re so beautiful.” She swallowed.

“Thank you.”

“But I have a girlfriend now.” A smiled threatened to creep on her face at the declaration, and she bit her lip to keep it from spoiling the fun she was bound to have.

“So I’ve heard.” Her tone was more flirtatious than she had intended. She felt him nod, his head lolling in his drunken state.

“And she’s super beautiful,” he stated.

“Really? But you said I was beautiful.”

“She’s more beautiful. The most beautiful girl in the world.” Ladybug hummed at the thought. “I think I really like blue eyes,” Adrien mused aloud. “She has the best blue eyes. And she’s so nice. I love her so much.”

“She loves you too, I’m sure.”

“Even if she didn’t, I’d love her.” Marinette’s heart was pounding. She wanted to kiss him so badly. But they were still flying across Paris, and given how drunk he was, she wasn’t sure he’d take kindly to a kiss from Ladybug.

“What else do you love about her?” His house was in her line of sight now, and she couldn’t wait to get inside. He kept the window open for her most of the time, knowing she liked to visit when his father wanted her around least.

“I love how she has twinkly eyes when she talks about fashion, and how she gets her words mixed up, and how she panics, and how she talks, and how she smiles, and how she’s super nice, and how she’s really cool, and how she’s super nice, and her eyes, and her face, and she’s cute.” Ladybug wasn’t sure when he had an opportunity to breath in that list, but she also wasn’t sure when she had stopped breathing herself. God, he was just so CUTE. Frustrated, she fiddled with the window clasp until it opened, and she let herself in and put Adrien on the couch. He sat crumpled on the couch, clearly unable to control himself.

“How did you ever get yourself this drunk?” Ladybug wondered aloud. This was not a question he chose to listen to as he looked frantically about the room.

“Where’s Marinette?” he asked groggily. “I called Marinette and I can’t find her.” She sighed in amusement.

“Adrien, I’m right here,” Ladybug replied. Adrien frowned when he looked at her, clearly confused.

“I want Marinette…” Grinning to herself, she detransformed in front of him. The response was immediate and satisfying.

“Marinette?” he gasped and stood up as best he could. “You’re Ladybug?” Marinette chuckled, exasperated.

“Adrien, we’ve been dating for months,” she retorted. He walked drunkenly toward her and hugged her tightly, craving every bit of attention she was entirely willing to give to him.

“Marinette! I can’t believe you’re Ladybug.” Adrien buried his face into her neck and gave her kisses all over her cheeks. So much genuine love poured out of him with every clumsy touch. It was as if he was making sure she was real and with him. “I love you so much,” he muttered, still holding her tight. Marinette wrapped her arms around him firmly and cherished the warmth she held. This was going to be a fantastic story in the morning. She’d be sure to tell him as soon as he woke up.

But he said nothing. Instead, he walked silently to his suitcase and took out a plastic bag.

“I’m changing too,” he said, not addressing anybody in particular.

Marinette was more than excited to see the result. Surely, he had something cool planned. Something that would more than irresistible. Alya, as the best friend in the world, had her phone ready to capture every angle of the costume.

“Alright, I’m coming out!” he called from the bathroom. Red spandex was not what she had expected when he made his grand entrance. Adrien was dressed head to toe in a beautifully recreated Ladybug costume, altered slightly in design. The black neckline was wider, and he appeared to be have gloves and boots as well, making it easier for him to wear a pair of black shoes with the outfit. He had even made his own little yo-yo, which sat sweetly on his hip.

Marinette ceased to function. The only thought in her mind was that Adrien Agreste loved Ladybug enough to dress as her for the word to see. That he put forth the effort to make a cosplay for this event in her image. She might have burst if not for Alya’s incessant screaming.

More than enough photos gathered on her phone.

“This is going to be the best weekend EVER!” she screeched.

“This has been really fun,” Marinette said without pretext, leaning comfortably on his knees as they sat on the curb outside of the convention centre, waiting for Alya and Nino.

“Yea. It’s been a great convention. So many people asked us for our picture!” Adrien replied leisurely.

“And the meet up. Wow. I didn’t know there were so many fans of Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“And they loved that we were so well matched,” he enthused, looking out into the dwindling crowd of con goers. “You look awesome by the way,” he continued absent-mindedly. Marinette blushed furiously, thankful that the night was dawning on them.

“Not as amazing as your Ladybug cosplay,” she returned. Adrien grinned widely.

“Thank you, mon chaton,” he replied, giving her a wink. Marinette froze up. It had to be a coincidence. She was dressed as Chat Noir after all. It likely wasn’t a difficult nickname to come up with. But for him to call her his kitten. He didn’t just call her a kitten, but his kitten. She glanced up at Adrien’s profile. He did have blond hair and green eyes, just like Chat Noir’s, but the style was so different. And the green colouring could have come from the magic, since even his sclera were green.

Even still… she never really called Chat Noir “mon chaton” where people could hear them.

“Not at all, my Lady,” she replied cautiously. Although he didn’t say anything, Marinette noticed immediately the tension that had risen in his posture. “After all, what is Ladybug without Chat Noir?”

“A confident, intelligent, and beautiful super-heroine,” Adrien said, not missing a beat. Marinette raised her eyebrows.

“I was going to say “nothing”, but… Well, I didn’t know you felt so strongly about Ladybug.”

“How could she be nothing?” he argued. “She’s amazing!”

“But she wouldn’t be able to go through with half her plans if not for Chat Noir. She needs him!” she retorted.

“Hardly,” he muttered, clearly dejected, and drooping.

“What have you got against Chat Noir?” There was something familiar in the way he spoke, and it made Marinette extraordinarily nervous.

“Nothing! It’s just that, he’s like the sidekick right?”

“Not at all! Not ever! They are partners.” He stopped responding at this, and for a moment, they sat in silence together. “You’re my partner,” she whispered. Tension rose quickly in him again, and he turned sharply to face her. Marinette looked resolutely at the floor.

“What?” he asked, a glimmer of hope piercing through his tone.

“You’re my partner,” she repeated. “Mon chaton. Mon minou.” Her eyes turned to him, fear tainting them. “Mon Chat Noir.”

“Ladybug?” he muttered, hardly believing himself. He could hardly move, and only stared with an expression of shock, and elation. Marinette bit her lip. “My Lady? Buggaboo?”

At this, she broke into a smile and hugged him, nearly knocking him over from the force. Hiding the tears that had begun to trickle down her cheeks, Marinette held to him tightly.

“I cannot believe you dressed up like me!” she laughed. Adrien squeezed her, and she could hear the tears in his voice.

“Hey, in fairness, you did the same.”

“Woah, woah,” Nathaniel started, holding his hands up to stop the panic attack before it started. “Wait a minute! Relax. I’m sure my father can go without his wine for a moment longer. I’ll ask another servant. It’s okay.” The servant froze, struck by the kindness of the Prince.

“Your Highness! I am so sorry! I should go. Oh! But your clothes! Let me just. Oh, I’m so sorry!” The boy approached him with a handkerchief and began dabbing at his chest worriedly, touching him as if he were uncertain as to whether or not he was permitted. Up close, his fluffy dark hair ticked Nathaniel’s chin. The servant’s frame was rather small and delicate, and he although he was slouching, Nathaniel could tell he was about the same height as him.

“It was an accident,” Nathaniel cooed softly, very distracted by the proximity of the boy. He smelled nice.

“But your shirt!” he cried.

“Can be washed.”

“And the wine!” he went on.

“Can be replaced.”

“But!”

“Are you hurt?” The boy froze, once again mortified that he was being a burden. He stepped away, much to Nathaniel’s disappointment.

“I’m… I’m fine,” he mumbled, biting his lip, worry still etched into his brow. “And you?”

“I’m perfectly alright,” he replied honestly, spreading his arms to display the lack of harm dealt upon his person. The servant visibly relaxed, his shoulders drooping. “May I ask your name?” Tense once more, the boy answered curtly.

“I am Marc Ancel.”

“Marc, you’re rather young to be working at the castle, aren’t you?”

“I… I’m new. My parents have been working here all their lives and…”

“I see.” Marc bowed again, keeping his head lowered as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry. I can see now I wasn’t ready…”

“No!” Nathaniel exclaimed, startling Marc. “I mean. You’re doing just fine! I was only wondering. Because, you see, there aren’t many younger servants. Especially not my age. I’ve never seen you before.” Nathaniel rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. He was being ridiculous. It was only a cute boy! It was not as if he had never seen a cute boy before.

“Oh. Well.” Marc stood straight once more. “Yes, I will do my best to help around the castle regularly.”

“I hope to see you more often,” Nathaniel confessed. Marc blushed furiously. It was pleasant to know that he looked overjoyed, rather than abashed.

“As do I, Your Highness.”

“Please, call me Nath.” Marc’s eyes widened. His blush now was most definitely an act of chagrin.

“Your Highness! I could never!” Nathaniel waved the point aside.

“We’ll work on it. I’ll relieve you of the conversation. Please do go about what you were doing.” Nathaniel turned to walk away after a short nod of his head.

“Your shirt!” Marc reminded him.

“I’ll go change,” he shrugged. “It’s not a problem at all. Like I said, it was an accident.” Marc bowed deeply once more before Nathaniel turned the corner. He would not admit this for a very long time, but the Prince was happy to have gone and ruined a shirt. The wine stain may never come out, but it was quite worth it to meet such an adorable, sweet boy.