Fake It ('Til you make it)

Taking it Slow (Adrien)

He reached in, noticing a selection of paper, something on them catching his eye. Delicately, he lifted the paper out of the box and studied it. The drawings were old. Marinette's most recent ones were more refined than when she was in her teens. But as he studied each and every one, the lump in his throat grew, the realisation taking his breath away and causing him trouble to continue to breathe - because this was the sign he was waiting for. The signal he needed to jump in with two feet and know she would be there to catch him.

There were sketches of him. Doodles of them – of their future family. Of a pretty girl and two toothless boys. Of Tikki and Plagg playing with a hamster, and her marital name scrawled around it.

Marinette Agreste.

Mrs Marinette Agreste.

Mrs Adrien Agreste.

Mrs M. Agreste.

His heart picked up speed and every nerve caught on fire as he waited for her to return. They needed to talk...now! They had waited long enough.

If she'd kept these, she obviously still felt this way. If she'd kept these, she still wanted him.

"Okay, I'm all.... What are you doing?"

Dropping the drawings in the box, Adrien turned around abruptly at the sound of her voice and knocked over another box filled with cuddly toys...each one gifted from him.

She scurried past him, picking up the box and putting everything back in. She was frantic, and he was worried she was going to turn around and tell him to get out. She dropped down onto her knees, scooping up the fallen items and pushing them back into the box.

"Marinette, I'm sorry, I just saw it and..."

"And what, Adrien? You realised how pathetic I am?"

He heard the emotion in her voice and felt his own building with it. He watched her, unable to answer as the light reflected off a tear escaping down her now plain face – if you could call her plain. She was more stunning naturally than with the dark, smoky eyes she'd been given earlier, and with her hair back in her signature pigtails, all he wanted to do was scoop her in his arms and kiss her senseless.

"Marinette, I –"

She sniffed and his heart broke. He hated seeing her cry. He just wanted to scoop her in his arms, take her to their bed and hold her until there was no sorrow left in sight.

He closed his eyes, opening them with a newfound solidity. "I'll be right back."

He grabbed his clothing and headed down into the bathroom, swapping his outfit for his day clothes and his fear for his strength. He wouldn't allow Marinette to cry anymore...not over him.

In record time, he was changed and making his way back up the staircase into her room.

He lingered at the trapdoor, his gaze fixed on Marinette sitting on the chaise lounge, bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight and looking more defeated than he'd ever seen her.

He watched as Tikki hovered nearby, a silent guardian to her quiet sorrow. In Marinette's arms was the small mouse plushie he had won for her years ago, a cherished relic of their shared past.

His heart clenched as he observed her wiping tears from her cheeks.

Slowly, he continued up into her room, the floorboards creaking under foot as he lifted to his full height. Marinette's eyes widened as she noticed him, a mix of surprise and apprehension flickering across her features.

"Adrien?" she murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Did she think he wouldn't come back?

He approached cautiously, his gaze never leaving hers. Sitting down beside her, he couldn't ignore the surge of possessiveness that washed over him at the sight of her wearing his lacrosse shirt — one he now realised was her favourite, as a kind of protection. The fabric seemed to cling to her in all the right places, igniting a primal desire to claim what was his—what he longed to be truly his.