When Duty and Desire Meet

The Bodyguard Arc Part l

As she scooped up a particularly smushed pastry, her hand brushed another. By the time she looked up, Adrien had retracted his hand away as though he'd been burned. Her breath caught at the look he was sending her way. Nobody that shirtless should look that soft and sheepish. It was entirely unfair.

"S-sorry," he said, though Marinette had no idea what exactly he was apologising for.

"No, it's ok," Marinette replied and the pair began to pick up the remaining donuts. They lapsed into an awkward silence, in which Marinette grew more and more annoyed with herself. Adrien was her friend . Just because he was 'drop food' levels of hot (one of the highest levels of hot there was), it didn't mean she should start losing her head around him, drooling over him like she was a stray dog and he was a piece of steak. She might as well be one of those creeps that stalk the models present on Instagram.

Oh, and there was also the fact that she had a sort-of boyfriend who she had regular trysts with, and whom had a very, very...very nice body himself. An aforementioned Instagram-model worthy body.

Double tap indeed.

A part of her wanted to argue that it was ok to find Adrien attractive. She wasn't blind after all. But she also didn't think it was appropriate to get all flustered over another guy when she was planning to confess her identity to Chat Noir that same night.

So there she was, stuck in an internal war which rendered her incapable of saying much beyond a mumbled 'thanks' to Adrien and Nino for helping her pick up the donuts.

"No problem," he replied offering her his hand. Frosting covered and all, Marinette placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. His bare arm muscles tensed for a moment and Marinette's thoughts went somewhere she really didn't want them to go. Once again her legs felt unsteady, as though they might melt at any moment and leave her falling to the floor and further beyond it, in to the deeper parts of hell.

And hell, she was beginning to suspect, was exactly where she belonged.

Adrien still hadn't let go of her hand. His eyes bore into hers, the intensity familiar in a way, but there was uncertainty there. A question Marinette couldn't understand nor answer. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. All of it left her at a loss, adrift in a sea of confused and yet his hand was the lighthouse guiding her home and WOW these were NOT appropriate thoughts. This was NOT what friends did.

Why wasn't he letting go? Why did she want him to keep a hold of her?

No.

Bad Marinette.

STOP.

Nino coughed and whatever spell had had its hold over the pair broke. Adrien dropped her hand and a rush of relief and guilt came over her so strongly that she felt almost high from it. High and low at once. The feelings festered in a little ball at the bottom of her stomach, knotting and twisting unpleasantly.

So she did the only thing she could think of doing. Ignore the heck out of it.

When Marinette turned to Nino, alerted by his previous cough (which, in hindsight, sounded incredibly fake), she found an Alya-like expression written across his features. This was worrisome in more ways than Marinette could count, but the motives behind the expression remained unclear.

With a cheeky grin, Nino sauntered over to Adrien. "Soooo, buddy," he said, wrapping his arm around his friend before yanking it back again with a cry of disgust. "ICK! Why are you all greasy?"

Adrien laughed, which sounded nicer than normal, and Marinette started considering whether or not her Ladybug powers were evolving, because she was certainly burning a hole through the floor with how hard she was staring at it. Everything about this was wrong and she hated it.