Revealed in Time

Oops...

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will herself to fall asleep. But everytime she was just about to doze off, images of Adrien plagued her vision. At first these scenes were happy. He was smiling and walking towards Marinette - she could only imagine that he was about to ask her out. Dressed in his dad's latest fashion, he was gorgeous and everything about him just seemed so perfect.

Yet, each time she was about to take his hand, he would always rip the present she was holding right out of her arms and stomp it right on the ground.

"Ugh," she sat up, rapidly rubbing her head in frustration. Why did Chat have to say all that? Now she couldn't sleep and it was all that stupid cat's fault.

Temper tantrums. She moaned. As if! What would Chat Noir even know about Adrien? It wasn't as if they were best friends that shared each other's deepest darkest secrets.

Right?

Marinette stood, completely resigning herself to the fact that she wasn't going to fall asleep any time soon and walked over to Adrien's side of the bed. She wasn't sure what she was looking for exactly, but some small part of her wanted to get closer to Adrien - to discover who he was as her husband.

Looking at the top of his nightstand, everything seemed quite ordinary at first glance. There was the large radio alarm clock, which she had noticed earlier, and a charging stand for his phone. There was also a pair of reading glasses which Marinette could only imagine looked extremely dorky and adorable on Adrien. Off to the corner, she noticed in confusion, appeared to be what seemed like a tiny, kwami sized bed. It looked just like the one Marinette had on her side of the bed for Tikki, except for instead of being pink, this one was black.

Why would he have another bed for Tikki? Marinette wondered, looking over at the sleeping little deity on her own nightstand. Did Tiki sometimes prefer to sleep next to Adrien? It wasn't as if Marinette could blame her; he was gorgeous to look at.

She sat back down on the bed, fluffing Adrien's pillow before laying, face down, in his spot.

I can't believe I'm laying in Adrien's bed. Marinette breathed in, taking in his almost, intoxicating scent. Or the fact the Adrien's bed is actually mine. She let out a high pitched little squeal into her pillow. This was almost too good to be true. How on earth was this going to be her life?

Not to mention how drop dead gorgeous she looked in all those wedding photos. Most of the time she had spent glancing at them, her eyes had been on the incredibly handsome, well dressed Adrien, of course. However, it wasn't as if she could ignore herself standing right next to him. If asked prior to this if Marinette ever thought she stood a chance at measuring up to Adrien's radiance in a photo, she would have scoffed. Her? Plain old Marinette? Surely she would always pale in his presence, right?

No. These pictures were proof that some sort of goddess had been sent down to prepare Marinette for her wedding day. The dress was simply divine; she couldn't have designed it better herself - wait, was this her own design? Either way, Marinette would never forget it's perfect blend of silk and lace, it's simple yet elegant construction, and the flattering way it clung and fell from her body at all the right spots.

Then there was the makeup and hair, which only the goddess could have accomplished. How could a partial updo with loose, freely flowing curls look so gorgeous? Marinette never thought she could ever look so angelic, but she had to admit, these pictures made her somewhat envious of her future self.

Marinette sunk further into the bed, relaxing herself into Adrien's comforting scent. Man, she could definitely get used to...

CRASH! Something made a loud, dangerous sounding ruckus downstairs. Without even giving it one thought, Marinette jumped to her feet, running through the door, only stopping once she realized she was standing at the top of the stairs. Normal people would have cowered and run away from a noise like that in the middle of the night, but not Marinette. Her Ladybug, superhero, instincts sent her flailing like a mad woman straight towards the source.