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His father was livid. Adrien had missed another shoot while saving the city. Gabriel screamed at him, told him he was a disappointment of a son. Now Chat Noir was now prowling the streets, looking for a place to go. He couldn’t go home for the night. He wouldn’t go back to the prison his father had crafted for him. What he really needed was a friend. Nino was out of town this weekend and Alya was off who-knows-where tracking down stories on Ladybug.

That’s why he detransformed in a nearby alleyway and stopped outside Boulangerie Patisserie. Marinette was timid around him, but she had a good heart and would undoubtedly help him forget about his problems. Plus, she had sugary comfort food, and right now, he couldn’t care less about the meticulous diet his father had put in place for him.

The warm light still glowed through the storefront windows, and he could see Marinette inside sweeping the floor. The sign on the front door had been switched to “CLOSED” so he tapped lightly on the glass. She didn’t seem to notice the sound over the brushing of the broom, so he knocked a little louder.

The girl jumped a mile at the sound, and then another mile when she took note of the person who had made it. She rushed to the door and unlocked it, seeming far too concerned about why he was here to be speechless because he was here.

“Adrien, it’s 9PM! What are you doing here?” She exclaimed, her bright blue eyes wide. “Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything.” She tacked on at the end, her cheeks turning pink.

He put a hand to the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I, uh… My father and I had an argument and I needed to get out of the house.” He spotted a tray of pink and green macarons on a table behind Marinette. “Also I’m kind of hungry.” “Kinda” was an understatement. He had probably eaten three leaves of lettuce, seven crackers, and nine grapes all day.

“O-of course!” Marinette said. “My family was just about to sit down to dinner. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind setting down an extra plate.”

Adrien’s eyes widened with guilt, “Oh, no, no! I can’t intrude on your family dinner.” He thought it was past dinnertime, but failed to take into account the possibility that a family with a busy bakery would eat dinner later than the rest of Paris.

Marinette pursed her lips. “Adrien, don’t be ridiculous. Stay for dinner. I’ll go ask Maman.” The girl rushed up the stairs. Adrien waited in the same spot by the door, tapping the toe of his orange sneaker on the floor and swaying with his hands in his pockets. Not long after, Marinette raced back down the stairs, grabbing Adrien by the hand and dragging him up the stairs after her, grinning the whole time.

The way his father yelled at him turned his insides to ice and dirt and numbness, but Marinette’s friendly smile made flowers bloom in that wintry patch in his chest.

“Oh, Adrien! How lovely to see you!” Marinette’s mother exclaimed once he plopped down in a seat at the dining room table. Marinette took the seat across from him while her parents sat at each head of the table. Her mother had made a chicken stir-fry, and her father had made an assortment of cookies for dessert.

Adrien scarfed down his first helping of stir-fry and didn’t go for seconds out of politeness. Mrs. Cheng, however, noticed his longing stares at the plate of chicken in the center of the table and encouraged him to take more food.

He loved this. He’d always wished for this, even when his mother was around. A home-cooked meal, light chatter at the dinner table, a cozy atmosphere like the Dupain-Cheng apartment. He even enjoyed himself helping clear away the used plates and silverware. Marinette’s family even made the chores that had always disgusted his father fun.

As he picked up a plate to hand Marinette, he felt a gentle hand on his arm. Mrs. Cheng pulled him aside.

“Marinette told us about your situation. It’s quite late, and Mr. Dupain and I have agreed that it would be best if you stayed here for the night.” Adrien opened his mouth to protest. He knew he could make it home as Chat Noir, though he didn’t plan on saying that outright. Either that, or the Gorilla would come to pick him up. His father would be furious if he knew he’d spent the night at a girl’s house.

Before he could get a word out, he felt a much larger hand clap him on the back. “Don’t worry about it. We have spare pillows and blankets. The couch is all yours.”

Adrien smiled fully at his friend’s parents, green eyes shining with gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough.”

After dinner was spent gaming. Two vs. two Ultimate Mecha Strike III Dupain-Cheng style. Marinette’s father certainly had a knack for the game and it wasn’t hard to see where Marinette had gotten her skills from. Her mother was surprisingly good at it as well, but neither of them were any match for their daughter.

Soon enough, though, it was time for her parents to go to bed. Her father needed to be up at 4AM to prepare the bakery. It wasn’t a school night, so the kids could stay up as late as they wanted, as long as they were quiet and didn’t get up to any “funny business” as Mr. Dupain had put it. Adrien’s face had gone Ladybug red at that. Tom Dupain was a jolly, kind man, but he was downright intimidating when he wanted to be.

“Papa!” Marinette exclaimed, her face turning a similar shade of red as Adrien’s own, darkening the subtle freckles that peppered her nose and cheeks.

“Goodnight kids!” Her mother said, dragging her father along behind her into their bedroom.

Marinette looked at Adrien and smiled, more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. “Up for another game?”

“I think I’ve had my butt handed to me enough for one night.” He chuckled, setting his controller down on the table before leaning back on the sofa.

“I get it,” Marinette said with the tiniest of smirks. “Winning takes a lot out of me.”

“Starting to think that lucky charm of yours doesn’t like me.” He said, and her brows furrowed in surprise.

“You still have it?”

He took the aforementioned charm out of his pocket, turning it over gently in his palm. “I might seem like I’m the luckiest kid alive, but I can honestly use all the luck I can get.”

She blinked at him, lips quirking into a concerned frown.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m completely grateful for everything I have.” Adrien added hastily. He wasn’t spoiled, and he didn’t want Marinette to think that.

“I understand that.” She affirmed with a reassuring smile.

“I have a great education, awesome friends, the job of a lifetime… But the first two almost didn’t happen because of my father.” He sighed.

“Can you promise me something?” Adrien asked and Marinette nodded. “When you become an awesome fashion designer, don’t shut your children out. Make time for them. Don’t imprison them in their own homes.” Marinette nodded again while Adrien paused. To lighten up the mood, he added, “And for the love of God, don’t ever make your supermodel children diet at fifteen years old.”

Marinette giggled at this. “You assume I’ll have children beautiful enough for modeling.”

“Are you kidding? Of course you will. If they inherit those pretty bluebell eyes, they’ll slay all of Paris.” Adrien froze, realizing that he had just marveled at her eyes aloud instead of in his head, like he’d planned. And he was just a sucker for eyes like that.

The girl next to him let out the tiniest squeak. She covered her mouth, but he could still see some pinkness in her cheeks peeking out from behind her hand.

“I – uh, I mean…” He sputtered, his cheeks heating. She put a hand on his.

“It’s okay.” She said, then hesitantly continued, “I think your eyes are pretty too.”

They were both quiet for a while after that, and Adrien felt himself drifting off to sleep.

He woke a few hours later, probably around midnight if the clock on the far wall was correct. He tried to stretch and shift to a better position, when he noticed Marinette leaning on his shoulder, snoring softly.

Adrien wasn’t sure what to do. Her parents probably wouldn’t be too happy to find out she’d spent the night down here instead of in her own bed. After a few minutes of deliberation, he finally came to a decision. He scooped her up gingerly in his arms, one hand under her knee, the other cradling her shoulders. He didn’t have his Chat Noir super strength, but she wasn’t too heavy.

Plagg took that moment to zip out from his shirt pocket and grin smugly at his chosen. “Oh, stuff it, Plagg.” He whispered, not wanting to wake Marinette and blow his secret.

She sighed and nestled closer to his chest. His face burned. Plagg opened his mouth to make some remark like “Just a friend, huh?” Adrien gave him a warning glare before he could say anything.

**

Marinette woke up feeling weightless. Her eyes were still closed, and her cheek was pressed against something firm. She knew her family sofa was old and hard, but she didn’t remember it feeling like this. She cracked one eye open to survey the situation.

A black t-shirt with colored stripes, a strong jawline, tanned skin… she was in Adrien’s arms.

She had to be dreaming. There was no way this could be true. Adrien Agreste was carrying her up the stairs to her room. She would have squealed if it wouldn’t make things so terribly awkward for both of them, so she continued to feign sleep as the boy of her dreams carried her to bed.

When Adrien reached her room, she felt him pause, most likely since carrying her up a ladder was no easy feat. He lowered her down onto the chaise on the side of the room.

“Plagg,” he whispered. Plagg? Was he speaking gibberish? “Pass me that blanket over there.”

“Only if you let me get a wisecrack in.” Another voice piped up, clearly not too keen on being quiet. Tikki, nestled in Marinette’s pocket, seemed to jolt at the voice. Marinette tried to rack her brain, trying to remember if Adrien had any talent for ventriloquism. Where did that voice come from?

She could practically hear Adrien’s eyes rolling as he sighed. “Fine, I got it.” She heard the rubber soles of Adrien’s sneakers mildly thudding as he moved further away, probably to grab the blanket she kept on her desk. Her desk! It had pictures of Adrien ALL OVER THE PLACE. She peeked open one eye worriedly and saw something far more concerning. A kwami. Hovering around Adrien, whose back was turned as he unfolded her blanket. Plagg. It made sense. The silver ring on Adrien’s finger brought itself to the forefront of her mind. He disappeared during akuma attacks like she did. He knew