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Marinette pushed the peas around on her dinner plate, the fork clinking against the porcelain as she made little patterns around her chicken. How was she supposed to eat?
“Honey,” her mother’s hand was on her shoulder. “Deep breaths. It’ll be okay.”
Setting her fork down with a noisy sigh, Marinette gave up entirely. Her stomach refused to take any more, even if the buttered peas were some of the best her dad had ever made. “What if it’s not there? What if nothing happens?”
“It will be,” her father said, curling one of his massive arms around her. “You’ll be fine, my sweet. And we’ll be here for you no matter what.”
She hugged her parents, then gathered her pajamas and went downstairs for a shower. As she scrubbed at herself, Marinette took a moment to remember when birthdays were something to look forward to. When they meant cake and ice cream and friends and presents, not this looming dread that tied her organs in knots and left her shaking from head to toe. She was supposed to be excited about tomorrow. Instead she only felt crushing fear.
Back in her room, Marinette combed her freshly washed hair, filed her nails, meticulously went through her grooming routine. She needed to look her best.
“Are you okay?”
Setting the nail file aside, she glanced up at Tikki, floating at eye level.
“Not really.”
“You’ll be fine, Marinette.” Tikki hugged her cheek. “I’ve watched countless Ladybugs get their strings. Don’t worry so much.”
Marinette stared down at her left pinky finger. Would it hurt? What if it was cut? What if she woke up tomorrow and there was nothing, leaving her to join the ranks of the horrendously unlucky?
“You’re worrying.”
She stared at her Kwami. “How can I not?” Marinette covered her pinky with her other hand. “It’s going to change my life, whether I want it to or not.”
“Of course it will, Marinette. It’s a wonderful thing!”
She frowned. That’s what everyone said - but what about all the other possibilities? She was one of the youngest in her class, and one of the last to turn eighteen. Almost all of her friends already had theirs, some had even found the one on the other end. Rose and Juleka surprised no one, finding each other immediately and becoming even more inseparable. Marc and Nathaniel were a bit of a surprise, even to them, but after a few days of awkward avoidance they’d come together and looked happy. Nino and Alya were a given - anyone could have seen them together for life. Even her parents had a fairy tale story of following their strings until they met.
But what about the unlucky ones? What about Max, who’s string wound off into the distance? What about poor Sabrina, and the heartbreak in her eyes when her string didn’t connect to Chloe? The girl in the class ahead of hers whose thread frayed and broke one day? She’d seen the happiest couples break up because their strings didn’t connect. She’d lived it.
Luka had been one of the best things to happen to her. Sweet, generous, gentle. Everything Marinette wanted. But on his eighteenth birthday, a year before hers, his string appeared and did not lead him to her. He was meant for someone else, that was the reality she had to swallow. The breakup was mutual and amicable, but after a year of his affection, it left her with an ache in her chest that little could heal. All she could do was be happy for him.
A dark voice whispered to her. She could wake up tomorrow and find her string cut, hanging limp and lifeless off her finger, the one the universe had paired her with gone. Or there could be nothing at all. She’d be a statistic on the news, likely accompanied with a dramatic headline. Local girl has no string: Story at 11. They’d probably want to interview her.
Even Chat Noir told her that he’d gotten his a while ago, but said nothing else on the matter.
“Marinette,” Tikki said. “You’re thinking too hard.”
She took a deep breath and put her grooming kit away, satisfied with the state of her nails. “I know. But I can’t help it. What if I don’t like them? What if they don’t like me?”
Tikki laughed. “It doesn’t work like that, Marinette. You’ll love them. They’re meant for you.”
Meant for her…
She glanced up at the framed photo on her wall. Marinette and all her friends at a winter party, wearing fancy dresses and suits. Alya, Nino, Ivan, Mylene, Rose, Juleka, and…
Adrien.
With his arm around her shoulders, his smile angelic, his dark green suit highlighting his incredible eyes. He’d grown even taller and filled out as his cheeks lost their boyish rounds, somehow becoming even more of a heartthrob than he already was. Adrien’s birthday was months ago, in the autumn. He’d confirmed that his string had appeared. That it was glowing. But he didn’t know who it led to, or if he did, he wasn’t saying. The tabloids had eaten him alive, desperately digging for information. Who is Adrien Agreste’s Other Half? Magazines were plastered with his face and increasingly ridiculous theories for weeks.
‘I’ll wait for them to find me’ was all he’d said about it.
What were the chances?
Slim to none.
Marinette had become more of a realist as she’d entered into adulthood. Her crush on Paris’ golden boy hadn’t gone away, not entirely, even when Luka’s love took over most of her heart. It took time, but she’d learned to speak normally to him, and in return he’d cemented himself as one of her best friends, a confidant, a boy she knew she could count on always. Adrien hadn’t found the other end of his thread yet, but that didn’t mean… There were millions of people in Paris, let alone France, on the whole planet. It could be anyone. Someone she’d never met. Someone she might never meet. It was entirely possible to go her entire life and never find the one she was connected to.
Marinette fell onto her bed. It was too early to sleep, but she didn’t see much point in trying to get anything done. Her hands were too unsteady to sew or knit, she was too spaced out to play video games or draw.
Tikki huddled close. “It will be okay, Marinette. I promise.”
Marinette tried very hard to believe it.
xxx
Her alarm woke her, blaring loud enough to rouse half the city. Marinette’s arm flopped around on her sheets until it hit her cell phone screen, the shrill sound going quiet. She’d gone to bed too early and slept too long, her limbs heavy, protesting as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Dawn was just barely breaking, peeking pale yellow through her windows.
On the shelves behind her, Tikki yawned in her tiny bed, then floated into Marinette’s vision. “Good morning,” she said. “Happy birthday, Marinette!”
“Thank you.”
She hadn’t looked yet. Her left hand was still tucked under the covers. She hadn’t even looked and her anxiety was already skyrocketing, sending her pulse racing, making her palms damp. She wanted to prolong this moment just a little more, before everything changed.
“Marinette.” Tikki cuddled against her cheek. “It’s okay. I’m here for you. You can look.”
She nodded. Took a deep breath. Then counted to ten and took another.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Marinette pulled her left hand from under the blankets. One last deep breath. In, out. She opened her eyes.
Her hand looked perfectly normal. Same fingers, same nails, same scar on her knuckle from being careless with her sewing scissors. And on her pinky, plain as could be, a tiny red thread tied in a bow, shining against her skin. Marinette lifted her hand, watching the end of the thread pull, following it with her eyes as it trailed across her covers, softly vanishing as it neared the floor.
“Marinette?”
She couldn’t tell if the feeling that flooded her was relief, adrenaline, or both. “It’s there,” she breathed. “It’s there.”
Tikki kissed her cheek. “See? Everything’s fine.”
Marinette felt oddly disconnected as she dressed in the outfit she’d picked out for the day: Her cream charmeuse sundress, muted pink calf-length leggings, peek toe beige ankle boots, and her favorite grey bolero jacket. Alya had called it her ‘heartbreaker getup,’ citing that it would make anyone fall instantly in love. She did her makeup carefully and tied her hair in pigtails, a style she hadn’t worn in years, but found herself wanting to wear them again. Dabbing her wrists with a tiny hint of perfume, the bow on her string wiggled and moved with her hand, as if it were a physical thing.
Downstairs, her parents awaited her with a birthday breakfast of crepes, fruit, beignets, and a spinach omelette. Her mother kissed her cheek.
“Happy birthday, honey.” Lifting Marinette’s left hand, Sabine examined it. "Is it there?”
“It is.” Marinette’s face split into a smile that might have been a little manic.
“What does it look like?” her father asked.
She extended her pinky and held it up to the light. The string glittered and pulsed. “It’s glowing, I think.”
Her parents gasped in delight, crushing her in a hug from both sides. “Oh, Marinette!” her mother exclaimed, a tear in her eyes. “They’re someone you know. They’re already part of your life!”
Her father hugged her close. “I’m so happy for you, my darling.”
Breakfast was much easier to stomach than her dinner had been, the relief of knowing settling her stomach. Her string had appeared in one piece. The worst was over. Except…
Someone she knew. It was someone she knew. That sent a whole new wave of nervousness prickling up her spine. How in god’s name was she supposed to go to school like this? What if they were there? What would happen? Would they be happy to see her? Disappointed?
She was walking to school before she even registered leaving the house, trying very hard to ignore how the string seemed to lead towards it. Alya was waiting for her on the corner with a bright smile.
“Happy birthday, girl,” she told Marinette, kissing both of her cheeks. “So?”
Marinette nodded at her hand, biting her lip. Alya hugged her tight.
“Were you scared?” Marinette asked, her voice tiny and fragile.
Alya stepped back. “Terrified. But it turned out okay. And you will, too.” She looped her arm with Marinette’s, took her bag from her hand, and walked her the rest of the way to Françoise Dupont College. Soon they wouldn’t be coming here anymore, off to university and jobs and wherever else. It was bittersweet, much like the way her schoolmates turned to look as she approached. Everyone knew it was her birthday. Everyone knew she was eighteen today. Dozens of eyes tracked her left hand as she went inside.
The school courtyard was packed and buzzing with life. With Alya as her ground, Marinette did her best to smile and wave at her friends and not act like she was about to implode. If this is how it was going to be all day, she would pass out before lunch. Alya called to Nino across the yard, who turned and waved at her. By his side, as always, was a boy. The boy. Adrien. He lifted his head from his phone and smiled.
Marinette felt a sharp tug on her left hand and her gaze snapped down to it. The thread on her finger pulsed. She raised her hand to have a closer look.
Alya gasped softly, then patted at where their arms were looped together. “Mari,” she whispered. Marinette frowned, looking up, then followed Alya’s wide eyes across the courtyard.
Adrien stared at her. His left hand was raised against his chest, a loop of red standing out against his tan skin. He took a step towards her, than another, bringing him closer, glancing between Marinette and his left hand.
A profound hush settled over the school.
Every step Adrien took towards her was an earthquake, the red on his finger the only thing Marinette could see. She could see it. She could see it. As he neared, she saw the thread that dangled from her hand pull taut, forming a glowing line between them.
Alya had let her go and Marinette thought she might fall straight through the floor.
Adrien was in front of her, right there, so close, with his designer clothes and heady cologne, his perfect hair and eyes. Somewhere on some faraway planet, the sounds of camera shutters echoed, but all she could hear was Adrien breathing as he brought his left hand close to hers. The red string glittered between them.
“It’s you,” he whispered softly.
She would have fallen over if not for Adrien gathering her up in his arms, pressing her into his chest. People were cheering. This had to be a dream, it had to be, but the skin of Adrien’s neck was warm against her forehead, his pulse strong against her cheek.
xxx
A day had never gone by so fast.
Marinette spent it in a daze. Adrien stuck close by, her friends rearranging their seats so they were more or less forced to sit next to each other. She had no idea what was taught in any of the classes. Adrien Agreste was on the other end of her string. Adrien Agreste was meant for her. Any second her alarm would go off and she’d end up late for school again.
It never did. Instead she was treated to Adrien staring at her, leaning his cheek into his hand, smiling, their fingers laced on top of the desk.
Lunch hour came, half the student body filing out of the school, the other half heading for the cafeteria. Adrien led Marinette to an empty classroom and sat on the steps. As he held both of her hands in his, it occurred to her that she hadn’t said a word since this morning. She hadn’t been able to.
“You okay?”
Marinette’s mouth opened and closed a few times before any sound came out. “I… I think so.”
Adrien hummed. “You don’t sound sure about that.”
Manic laughter threatened to bubble up out of her throat. “I’m still... processing this.”
He laughed, gently, squeezing her fingers. “It’s a lot, I know.”
“How are you so calm?” Marinette looked at his eyes. They looked greener than ever. Adrien shrugged.
“Probably because I had my freak out months ago.”
A mental image of Adrien Agreste in panic mode came to her: biting his nails, pulling at his hair, pacing his room while staring at his left hand. It made her laugh unexpectedly, sweeping away some of the tension with it.
“Mari?”
She cut off, looking up at him. Adrien smiled and he was so beautiful.
“I’m really glad it’s you.” His voice was full of warmth.
xxx
Marinette blinked and school was over, the student body trickling out of the building. Adrien held her hand as they walked out together, several students whipping out phones to film them, some happy, many others glaring. Adrien’s fingers squeezed hers as they approached his car. Instead of opening the door, he tapped on the window, then leaned in when it rolled down.
“I’m going to the bakery on the corner for a moment, I won’t be long,” he told his driver. He then steered Marinette towards her home.
“What are you doing?” she asked, the question coming out harsher than she’d intended.
Adrien only smiled. “There’s a good chance we’re all over social media by now, so we should probably tell our parents before they find out from Twitter.”
She almost hated how right he was.
Marinette’s parents were tending the bakery, a few customers milling about when they entered, hand in hand. Sabine froze with a gasp as she saw them, adding up the signs.
“Tom!”
The poor customers had to practically dive out of the way as Marinette’s parents came barreling towards them. Sabine kissed Adrien’s cheeks with tears in her eyes, then Tom swept them both up in a crushing hug. “Welcome to the family,” he said to Adrien.
Adrien’s cheeks were bright pink as he was fawned over, politely extracting himself and Marinette so they could go to his home and inform his father. His driver had moved the car in front of the bakery, and he held the door open for Marinette.
She sighed in her seat as the car set off. “Sorry, my parents can be… intense.”
He laughed softly. “They’re wonderful people.” He looked at her. “I’ve always thought so.”
The rest of the ride was quiet as Marinette felt dread building up in her gut again. Adrien was going to present her to his father. Gabriel Agreste. Her idol, and one of the most stern people she’d ever met in her life. Over the four years of their friendship, she’d come in contact with the man several times, and was beginning to wonder if he even knew how to smile. What if he didn’t approve?
The Agreste mansion had never seemed so large as Adrien led her through the front door and into the entryway, the cold and sterile interior almost making her lungs burn. Her hand was sweating where it gripped his and she knew it, only vaguely hearing Adrien tell the secretary - a woman who was almost as stern as Gabriel - that they needed to see his father right away. Yes, it’s urgent. No, it can’t wait.
The woman disappeared behind a door, then reappeared less than a minute later, holding it open for them both. Adrien rearranged their hands so that his left was holding her left, his right hand at the small of her back to lead her into his father’s office.
Seeing Gabriel Agreste stare down at her through his glasses made Marinette realize that she was never more unprepared for anything in her entire life than she was for this moment.
“Father,” Adrien held his chin high. “I’ve found my other half.”
Designer shoes clicked harshly on the marble floor as Gabriel approached, his hands folded behind his back, his perfect suit shining in the light and oh god, Marinette was going to die. “Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He scrutinized her up and down as though they’d never met. Adrien’s hold on her tightened a fraction.
One of Gabriel’s eyebrows arched high, then he nodded once. “Congratulations,” he said, his tone flat. He turned and went back to his work station. “You are still scheduled for a shoot on Thursday afternoon, Adrien. Do not let yourself become distracted.”
She could see Adrien’s wide smile in the edges of her vision. “Yes, Father.”
Marinette was led back to the car, where she finally allowed herself to admit she was shaking. Adrien squeezed her hand.
“I know my father can be scary, but he was happy, trust me.”
She could only manage a squeak as they drove back to the bakery to drop her off, Adrien coming inside the house entrance and surrounding her with another warm hug. This time she had the wherewithal to return it, even if her knees trembled.
“Marinette,” he breathed into her hair, like he just wanted to say it out loud.
“Adrien,” she said into his collar. His chest shook with a quiet laugh before he pulled away, hooking their left pinkies together. The red string glittered.
“I have to go, but text me, okay?”
She nodded. Adrien released her, then went out the door. Marinette groped for the banister to steady herself, standing in the entryway for a long time before managing to get herself upstairs.
xxx
They were, in fact, all over Twitter within a few hours.
Marinette texted Adrien that night. It was far from the first time - they’d been friends for years. Their shared text thread was hundreds of messages long: confirmation of plans, questions about tests, requests for homework when one or the other had to miss school. Memes, inside jokes, a surprise party for Nino that took ages to iron out. So many casual messages.
It took an hour to figure out what to say to him now. The old stammering Marinette was back in full force as Tikki patted her cheek sympathetically.
Settling on a simple “hi” followed with a smiley face, Marinette set her phone down and rubbed her temples. She was exhausted, a whole day of sky-high nerves leaving her with a bone deep weariness. She could probably sleep for days if no one woke her up for school.
Her phone chimed. Hey. You doing alright?
She typed with her thumbs, finding it infinitely easier to talk to him over text. I think I’m ready to pass out. Today was a lot.
The typing icon appeared at the bottom of her screen. So was I when it happened. Everyone talks about how wonderful it is, but no one tells you it’s scary and exhausting, too.
More typing. Not that it’s not wonderful!
Typing. You’re wonderful, I mean
A pause, then more typing. I’m just going to stop before I put my foot in my mouth.
Marinette laughed out loud. Though rare, it was possible for Adrien Agreste to become flustered and talk himself into a corner. She’d seen it once or twice.
Thanks for the laugh, she typed. I needed that. She followed it up with a silly face emoji.
He sent her a winking face. Marinette’s face went hot as the typing icon came up once again.
I know I already said it today, but I want to say it again. I’m glad it’s you, Marinette.
She bit her lip and hugged her phone to her chest, officially ascending to cloud nine. Adrien. It was Adrien. Her long time friend and not-so-secret crush. All her pining and oggling and heartbreak, all her nervousness and giddiness. Fantasies of getting married, kids and a hamster. They could come true now. It was almost too much.
I’m glad it’s you, too.
xxx
Adrien showed up at the bakery the next morning to walk her to school.
Marinette was not expecting it at all, walking downstairs with a croissant shoved in her mouth as she hopped on one foot, wrestling on her shoes. She froze when she saw him, standing beside her mother in a muted purple v-neck henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, cream colored slacks, and beautiful suede oxfords that complimented his bag. He waved at her with a soft smile.
Lowering her foot, Marinette pulled the half-eaten pastry from her mouth and flushed from head to toe. Right. Adrien. On the other end of her string.
“Morning,” he said, approaching her. Was he glittering? “You have, ah.” He motioned at her cheek, so she swiped at it, feeling croissant crumbs. Of course she’d greet Adrien with her face covered in food.
“Here.” That was all the warning she got before his thumb was next to her mouth, gliding over her skin. More crumbs fell away. “There we go.”
She swallowed her bite painfully, feeling blistering hot from head to toe. This was going to be the rest of her life. She’d never survive.
Once she’d choked down the remainder of her breakfast and was assured her that her face was free of any evidence, they left the bakery and walked side by side to the school. A small group of paparazzi trailed them, snapping photos and shouting questions at them, which they both ignored. Adrien didn’t take her hand like he had the day before, and she frowned a little at where their knuckles brushed as they walked.
“Marinette?”
Adrien stopped walking before they reached the steps and turned to her, his face serious. “I know this is all really sudden, but I just wanted to say that this doesn’t have to change things between us.”
She blinked at him. Then blinked again.
He ran a hand through his hair. “What I mean is that… you’re one of my best friends. You’ll always be, no matter what happens now.” Adrien glanced down at his left hand. “And I’ll always be there for you.”
It sounded oddly like a rejection, but it still brought Marinette some comfort. She knew Adrien. He always tried his best to make everyone happy, and could probably sense her unease. The entire ordeal had turned her universe upside down and sideways, leaving her floundering and flailing. But here was Adrien telling her nothing had changed, not really. Not yet. It brought her blood pressure down and calmed her heart.
“We’ll figure this out as we go. Sound good?”
Marinette exhaled and smiled. “Okay.”
He offered his arm, and Marinette took it as they climbed the stairs.
xxx
The next week saw Marinette and Adrien falling into a pattern. He was at the bakery bright and early every morning to walk her to school, Sabine always convincing him to take a pastry from the case, despite his half-hearted protests.
“My nutritionist is going to kill me,” he laughed one day as he munched on a flaky apricot danish.
Marinette bumped his shoulder with her own. “Is it worth it?”
He smiled at her, a tiny hint of sugar frosting on his lips. “Absolutely.”
They’d returned to their normal seats in their classes, Adrien sitting in front of Marinette in most of them. His driver would pick him up and take him to his home for lunch hour while Marinette went to the cafeteria, Adrien would stay behind after school three days a week for fencing. They chatted, texted, hung out on breaks with Alya and Nino. Her life was settling down, slowly but surely, though she would still feel a surge of joy every time she looked down at her left hand.
xxx
An Akuma attack shattered the peace of what was otherwise a beautiful Saturday evening.
Marinette was in her room, homework finished and playing her favorite farming game on her computer. She heard the crack of thunder and craned her neck to look out her window - clear skies all around were pierced by a sudden flash of bright pink lightning.
“Tikki?”
Her Kwami zipped down from her perch on the bed. “An Akuma!”
With a sharp nod, Marinette saved and quit her game. “Spots on!”
It took a bit to find the victim, a young woman recently fired from her job, wanting to pay back her former boss. Shock Lily. The Akuma had transformed her into a walking electrical station, sending lighting screeching along the streets, setting off a cacophony of car alarms. The metal of her body was woven with flower patterns, and it might have been beautiful if it wasn’t so horrifying. Ladybug landed on a rooftop a safe distance away and assessed the situation, scanning for weaknesses with her eyes, as a familiar thump landed behind her. She didn’t even flinch.
“Quite a shocking development, My Lady.”
Rolling her eyes, Ladybug took her yoyo from her hip. “Four out of ten, Chaton. You can do better than that.”
Chat Noir entered her field of vision, crouching on a chimney. “Cut me a little slack, I’ve had a stressful week.”
“That makes two of us.”
Together they made their approach. It was tricky, avoiding the pink bolts that moved at light speed while trying to identify where the Akuma might be. Chat spotted it first - an ID badge that hung from her chest plate. Ladybug used her Lucky Charm, and was rewarded with a pair of elbow length rubber gloves. She smiled. Saying her week had been stressful was an understatement, and she was thankful for a straightforward solution.
“Chat, I need a diversion!”
He shot her a toothy grin. “On it!”
Be careful , she thought as she ducked behind a banister and slipped on the gloves. Chat successfully got Shock Lily to turn her back, twisting around as she tried to track his erratic movement, crushing pavement and cars beneath her. Thankfully by this point, the citizens knew to duck inside at the first sign of an Akuma attack, and the streets were deserted.
“Cataclysm!”
One of the transformers Shock Lily had been using to attack them exploded in a shower of sparks and smoke as Chat Noir launched himself away in a black and gold blur, rolling to a stop on the street below. Shock Lily reeled, and Ladybug saw her opening, diving for the ID badge. It came loose with a single tug, but she wasn’t fast enough to avoid the arm that swatted her away, sending her careening through the air and down the avenue.
This was going to hurt.
Or it would have, if she hadn’t crashed into a warm body, long arms wrapping around her and cushioning her fall. Opening her eyes, Ladybug spied the familiar honeycomb pattern of Chat’s armor against his chest.
“I was always fond of bug catching,” he said, his voice dipping and rising in his signature playful lilt.
She extracted herself from his arms. “Thanks, but it’s a little late to be out playing.” With that, she threw the ID badge to the pavement and crushed it under her heel. A glowing black butterfly squeezed out from the remains, easily snatched up by the yoyo to be purified.
Once the power of her Miraculous had cleared the debris, the victim sat alone on the street. Ladybug returned her ID badge to her, noting her name: Lily Bernard.
“They said I had no spark,” she lamented. “It was my dream job.”
“They don’t deserve you,” Ladybug assured her with a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll bounce back, I know you will.”
Chat knelt and offered his hand. “You’ve worked hard to get where you are. Don’t let some knuckleheads in an office tear you down.”
Lily smiled. Over the years, Ladybug and Chat Noir had perfected the art of the Pep Talk - giving Akuma victims positive reinforcement to prevent further issues. It helped, though somewhere in the back of her mind, Marinette felt a little guilty at all the bullshitting it required. They didn’t know this woman or her struggles, yet here they were acting like old friends.
Allowing Chat to help her stand, Lily dusted off her pencil skirt and smoothed her hair. “I’m sorry for the trouble, Ladybug. You’re right.”
With a nod from Ladybug and a salute from Chat, Lily clutched her ID badge to her chest and walked off. Onlookers and spectators had begun to peek out from buildings, the silence of the post-Akuma evening slowly filling with murmurs and chatter.
“Nice job back there,” Chat stowed his baton at his back.
Flicking her yoyo, Ladybug allowed herself to feel smug. “Same to you, partner.”
He held up his knuckles for their traditional fist bump, grinning a Cheshire grin. She sighed. He never changed, and she was oddly thankful for the stability of his nonsense.
“Pound it,” Ladybug gently punched his fist with hers.
“Pound--”
He cut off, his voice cracking. Ladybug turned to see his eyes, impossibly wide, staring at where their fists connected.
“Chat?”
When she tried to lower her hand, he snatched it up, still staring. Following his gaze, she saw her red string, visible on top of her suit, glowing against the black of his gloves. Before she could wonder why he would stare at her hand, he raised his own. The pinky finger was looped in red.
The sound of the city around her cut out.
There was red on Chat Noir’s finger. Red, glowing and glittering, tied in a neat bow. She traced where it trailed from his hand, finding a loop that led back to her own.
She met his eyes. The color had drained from his face as his lips trembled. Chat had a red thread on his finger. Her heart went straight for her feet.
His hand squeezed hers, once, and the bubble burst. Suddenly all around them there were voices, camera shutters, flashes.
“Look, look! Their left hands!”
“They’re staring! Do they see a string?”
“Chat Noir and Ladybug have a connecting thread, oh my god!”
They both seemed to snap into action at the same time, turning only once to look at the crowd, then back to each other.
“Safe house,” Chat’s voice was a strained whisper.
In an instant he dropped her hand and took off, baton extending to propel him onto the rooftops. Ladybug whipped her yoyo up and snagged a chimney, flying off in the other direction.
Chat Noir had a red string on his finger. She could see it. She refused to ponder what it meant until she got some answers.
Her route took her halfway around the city before reaching the tiny attic studio they’d turned into a safe haven. Rented under one of Master Fu’s aliases and paid for in cash by their civilian selves, it was a modest single room equipped with the world’s smallest bathroom and shower, a basic hot plate and kettle, and two thin mattresses on either side. A curtain suspended from a cable at the ceiling cut the room in half; a precaution should they need to de-transform while the other was present. It had saved them more than once when it was too dangerous to return to their homes.
Ladybug ducked into the window on what had become her side of the apartment, shut it, and pulled the drapes. She’d barely flicked on the light when she heard Chat come through his window, hidden by the curtain. After some shuffling, she could see his outline against the fabric, standing with his fists at his side.
A few tense moments passed. Then Chat’s hand rose and the curtain was yanked aside, skating over the cable noisily.
He stared down at her, the height he’d gained in the last four years more noticeable than ever. Slowly, chewing his lip, Chat raised his left hand between them.
“Can you see it?” he asked, his voice small.
She could. She could see it as plain as day, glittering like a strand of metallic cotton floss. Her voice had left her, so she nodded, raising her own left hand.
The shining string looped between them. Chat held one of his gloved hands under it as though testing if it were really there, the red standing out against black leather.
“I’ve already met them,” he breathed.
She was dimly aware that she was nodding. “Me too.”
Any moment their Miraculouses would begin beeping. But they both stood frozen, rooted in place. Ladybug’s - Marinette’s - mind began spiraling. Was it possible to have two connected to a string? Or did this mean - no. No, no, no. It couldn’t be. It had been years. How would she never notice until now?
“Ladybug.” Chat Noir’s voice trembled, his acid green eyes searching hers frantically. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed. “I… I have to know. Please.”
She knew what he was asking for. He’d stopped asking a long time ago, the understanding and trust between them becoming stronger than the desire to know. Not anymore. Ladybug nodded, Chat took a breath.
“Spots off.”
“Claws in.”
The room filled with light, then faded.
When Marinette opened her eyes, she saw shirt buttons. A white dress shirt, pulled over a dark gray tee. No bell, no leather. She didn’t want to look up, but she couldn’t stop her eyes, or her chin, from raising, tracing over a jawline she’d know anywhere. Sweet, full lips, sharp nose. Emerald green eyes and golden hair.
A hand came up to brush her hair from her forehead, fingertips sweeping down her cheek. Adrien smiled down at her.
“It’s you.” The same words he’d said in the school courtyard on her birthday. “It’s you.”
Marinette’s knees buckled. A pair of arms were around her instantly, cradling her as they both sank to the floor. He squeezed her tightly against him, her face against his collarbone, breathing in his cologne and skin. She’d know his smell anywhere.
“My Lady,” he murmured into her hair. If she closed her eyes, she could hear Chat’s voice, her poor brain still struggling to catch up.
Adrien was Chat Noir. Chat Noir was Adrien. Her partner was her crush. The pun-cracking flirt was also the model and fencing champion. The most perfect boy in the world was the one fighting by her side all this time. Her shoulders shook as laughter bubbled up from her chest, soft at first, quickly turning into full giggling.
He laughed along with her, though she had no idea what was even funny.
Adrien pulled back, still laughing, to smooth her hair away again. His eyes shone under the single light fixture, brilliant green. Marinette brought her hands to his face, spreading her fingers to create a makeshift mask, comparing his face to Chat’s. He laughed, using his hands to do the same, forming a mask around her eyes.
“How did I never see you?” His smile was wide and bright. “You’ve been right in front of me this whole time.” He let go of her face and held up his ring, silvery on his right hand. Of course it was Chat’s ring. Of course he’d been wearing the Cat Miraculous this whole time. Marinette took her fingers from his eyes and brushed the hair away from her ears to show her earrings.
He laughed again, leaning in to press their foreheads together.
“Ugh,” came a disgusted grunt. “It’s about damn time.”
They jerked apart to find Plagg and Tikki hovering nearby, the black cat grimacing. Tikki poked him.
“Be nice, Plagg. They’re having a moment.”
Plagg rolled his eyes, his tail swishing. “Well, let me know when it’s over.” He flew up and phased through the ceiling, grumbling. Tikki watched him go, then shrugged, blew Adrien and Marinette a kiss, and followed.
They sat in silence for a long moment after their Kwamis left. Adrien ran his fingers through her hair once more, as though he simply enjoyed it. Marinette sighed and leaned into his touch, the shock of their mutual reveal smothering any panic she might have felt otherwise.
“I’m in love with you.” The words came out far easier than she ever thought they would.
He froze.
Completely froze, he might have even stopped breathing. Then he sucked in a harsh breath, his face flushing deep red.
“Y-you are?”
Marinette imagined taking all her reservations, all her nervousness, her hesitation, gathering them up in her arms, and dumping them into the Seine. “I have been since the day we met, when you gave me your umbrella.”
His cheeks went even redder. Adrien’s eyes were flicking all over her face, his jaw opening and closing a few times.
“When we defeated our first Akuma together,” he blurted. “You - you gave that speech on the Eiffel Tower about protecting Paris and… and I said to myself, ‘whoever that girl is behind the mask, I love her.’”
Marinette thought her heart might burst out of her chest. Chat loved her. Adrien was Chat. Adrien loved her. It was almost too much, until another realization hit her.
“Oh my god.” She barked a short laugh. “Adrien. Do you know what this means?”
His eyebrows pinched together over his nose. Marinette shook her head, mostly at herself.
“When I refused Chat Noir, it was because I was in love with Adrien.” She met his eyes. “I rejected you for you.”
His eyes went comically wide. “Oh my god. That time your dad was Akumatized - I rejected Marinette for Ladybug.”
Their laughter echoed through the apartment as they nearly curled in on each other in their hysterics. It was hilarious. How was this even real? It was like they were in a sitcom. They needed a laugh track for something this ridiculous.
They slowly regained control of themselves, wiping away tears of laughter and chuckling. Adrien held her to his chest again, his heart pounding beneath his ribs strong enough for her to feel. She wanted to stay here forever, wrapped up in his embrace, surrounded by his warmth and his scent.
He shifted to meet her eyes. It wasn’t fair how beautiful he was.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered into the space between them. “I really want to kiss you.”
It was like he’d read her mind, what she’d had on repeat since that first day in the rain on the steps of their school. “Please.”
Adrien caught her bottom lip between his own, and oh, his kiss was so gentle and soft, but Marinette felt it like a burst of sunlight. Like a bolt of lightning, like hot chocolate, like the comfort of home. Adrien’s lips against hers made the whole universe fall into alignment, every star and planet humming in contentment as she threaded her fingers into his hair.
One kiss became two, then three, as more giggles rose between them. Adrien hooked his left pinky finger with hers, their threads thrumming.
xxx
The next afternoon, Adrien came over for Sunday brunch, mostly as a pretense to speak with Marinette in private. In the hush of her room, with Plagg and Tikki munching on snacks nearby, they sat and recounted their stories of the years spent together. All the times they were right next to each other and didn’t know, the odd and laughable ways they hid their identities. Marinette flushed brilliant red as she finally admitted to her massive, years-long crush, and all her pitiful, failed attempts to get his attention. Adrien’s smile was like gold as he bit his lip.
“I can’t believe I never saw you,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’m an idiot.”
She booped his nose with her finger, laughing as his eyes crossed. “Maybe a little, Chaton. But you’re my idiot.”
They way his face lit up was so like Chat Noir that it made Marinette’s heart do a somersault in her chest. Adrien swung his arms wide and scooped her up, leaning back so they both went tumbling to the floor. Something almost like a purr rumbled against Marinette’s ear where it rested against his chest.
“My Ladybug,” he murmured, stroking her hair. Marinette snuggled against him.
“My kitty cat.”
The sound of his happy sigh was like music.
xxx
They’d barely made it into school on Monday before they were both attacked by Alya, waving her phone and shouting.
“Mari!” She cried, shoving the screen in their faces. “You are not gonna believe this. Look, look!”
Marinette had to lean back to see the phone, letting it come into focus. A post from Instagram was on display, a photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir on the street as he clutched her left hand, staring down at his own.
Marinette gulped. Saturday night, when they’d discovered each other’s strings. The red threads weren’t visible in the photo, but their body language spoke volumes.
“Uh,” was all Marinette managed. Alya yanked her phone back.
“Look at their hands!” She exclaimed. “I think they’re looking at strings, they have to be. It makes so much sense! Ladybug and Chat Noir are meant for each other!” Alya swooned, hugging her phone against her chest. “I knew it!”
Looking up at Adrien, he was blinking, his expression blank. But there, on the ridge of his cheekbone, the tiniest dusting of pink. He met her eyes and gave a sideways grin, shrugging. Marinette smiled at their secret, shared joke as Alya continued to gush in front of them.
This was going to be her life.
And she was looking forward to it more than anything.